Cardinal Points
by DarkUnderworld
Summary: Leonardo's world is one of routine and discipline, but it is thrown completely off kilter when he meets a woman that turns his perfectly ordered world on it's head. Raphael never believed a woman would look at him as anything more than a freak, but one woman seems to be able to tear apart all of his carefully crafted shields, leaving him helpless. Leo/OC Raph/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all, so this is a fic I have had stuck in my head for a bit now, so I am finally writing it. This is for SleepingSeeker who wanted a Leo love story:)**

**Also don't worry, I have not forgotten or abandoned my other fics, I hope to have updates for all of them soon.**

**Anyway I hope you all enjoy. It is a little more lighthearted than my other fics, so enjoy:)**

* * *

Chapter 1

**Leonardo** stared out into the darkened night, the horizon lit with the electric lights that filled the city that never slept with a yellowish glow.

Tonight the city was louder and more alive than it usually was. More people roamed the busy streets, laughing, talking and enjoying the company, the thrill and mystique that only Halloween night could bestow. The only other night that was filled with more revelers packing the streets was New Years Eve.

He looked down upon the street below and watched as the humans pretended to be monsters for one night, and then tomorrow, would pack away all of the costumes, the makeup, fangs, masks and wigs for another year; becoming human again -normal again. But Leonardo knew that he and his brothers were not normal and never could be. They could not easily remove a costume, but were instead freaks of nature that would terrify and be hated by the humans if they ever discovered their existence. He and his brothers were this city's hidden protectors, and would always exist outside of that world -in the shadows- helping the very humans that would seek to destroy them.

Even Leonardo could appreciate the irony of the situation, but tonight his thoughts were not occupied by such weighty subjects or thoughts. In fact, they were otherwise occupied by his younger, hot-headed brother's words instead.

"I am not boring," he grumbled out loud to himself. "And I do not have a giant stick shoved up my ass. I know how to have fun, I'm just too busy to have fun," he continued mumbling before realizing he was talking to himself and continued his irritated monologue in his head. _It isn't my fault that I have to be the responsible one because no one else in this family seems to know the meaning of the word._

With the death of their father two years ago, it seemed to be harder and harder to keep his brothers in line. He knew that he could never replace Master Splinter, but still, the burden of the responsibility for his family's health, happiness, and general welfare had fallen upon his shoulders. And although he was only 25, he felt 50 going on 70 for all the trouble his brothers had gotten into lately.

His brother's antics would have given him grey hair if he had any, but lately it seemed as if his brother's were pushing the limits of his tolerance for disobedience, mischief and risks.

It had begun with Donatello leading a very big, very viscous, very territorial guard dog on a merry chase through a junkyard, toppling over a large, teetering pile of junk that had caused a near chain reaction of catastrophic proportions as seven other piles had fallen in reaction to the first. Donatello was lucky to have gotten out in one piece and had almost been caught, by the night guard.

Then there had been Raphael, who after a night of stalking and searching for gangland scum to teach a lesson to, had come home with a knife wound in his side that had Leonardo praying to any god who would listen to spare his brother's life.

And finally there had been Michelangelo, who had been caught skulking around a comic book store by a couple of teenage girls who had posted pictures of him all over the internet. (Luckily the girls had thought their brother was wearing a cosplay -_whatever that was_- costume, but still.) He had tried to get Donatello to erase any and all of the pictures from the internet, but Donatello had informed him that once something was posted, it would be a futile effort to try to get rid of it.

He let out a heavy puff of warm air that condensed, turning into a light white mist before it vanished. He rubbed his jacket clad arms, the weather unseasonably cold this year and grimaced in irritation.

His brothers had all ganged up on him, telling him he needed to 'relax' and 'chill' when Leonardo had begun into a lecture on proper behaviour. Raphael had then informed him that he 'wouldn't know fun if it snuck up on him and bit him in the ass.' Leonardo had refuted his brother's accusation, but Michelangelo had readily agreed with Raphael's words, which had consequently injured his feelings for some reason. Raphael had then said he was' boring' and had a huge stick shoved so far up his ass, that it would take a twenty pound crane to drag it out. Leonardo had protested this and was about to give Raphael the tongue lashing he deserved, right up until Donatello -_that traitor_- had agreed with Raphael.

Leonardo had felt as if a knife had been plunged into his back at his brother's words. Donatello had then amended that he wasn't agreeing with the stick thing, but that Leonardo did have to loosen up because he was turning into a cranky, boring, curmudgeon.

The last word had confused Raphael and Michelangelo until Donatello had easily explained that curmudgeon meant that he was a surly and bad tempered, and held tightly onto his convictions even if they were wrong.

Which brought Leonardo back to why he was sitting on a rooftop, getting cold, and watching the ever growing throng of humans gathered in the streets of Times Square.

Raphael had bet him that he wouldn't be able to mingle with the humans and have a good time for just one night. And since it was Halloween, he could technically do this, even though he didn't want to. Unfortunately he couldn't turn down his brother's challenge because if he did, it would mean his brothers were right, and he couldn't let them be right, because he didn't _want _them to be right.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself before he silently made his way to the teeming mass of humanity below.

(Page Break)

Raphael watched as his older brother slipped from the rooftop and made his way to street level, where things were beginning to get a little rowdy, but so far, not in a bad way.

"You really think that this is a good idea?" Donatello asked in a worried voice.

Raphael gave an unconcerned shrug. "He'll be fine. If he even manages to talk to a human I'll be amazed. Besides, you're the one who called him a curmudgeon."

Michelangelo chuckled at the word, smiling broadly. "Don't worry, Donny, Raph's right, and I think this will be good for him. The only time he actually leaves the lair is to go out on patrol or go to April and Casey's."

"And get us out of trouble." Donatello pointed out.

"Yeah," Michelangelo agreed. "But that's still like...work."

They all nodded thoughtfully in agreement.

Raphael stretched and smiled. "So what are we going to do now that Leo is finally out of the lair?"

Michelangelo grinned. "Skateboard soap hockey?" Michelangelo's eyes lit up with excitement.

Raphael grinned and looked towards Donatello who shrugged. "Just try not to break anything. If we don't keep the lair in order and everything just the way Leo left it, then we will _never_ get Leo out of the lair EVER again," he warned.

"And then Leo'll make us do double training and double patrols," Michelangelo squeaked in horror.

They all shared a look of grim, feigned horror.

"Watch a movie?" Michelangelo offered up after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah, good idea," Raphael agreed sullenly, turning and making his way back home.

(page break)

Leonardo scanned the crowd and moved easily through it. No one gave him a second glance. He had been stopped a few times as he was given a thumbs up at being 'dressed as that guy on the internet', but he had still felt extremely uncomfortable.

He wanted to vanish back into the shadows, hide and not be pretending that he was a guy dressed in a turtle suit. He wanted to be back home, quietly enjoying a book on his bed while mentally compiling the training routines he was going to do with his brothers, and what routes they would patrol that night.

Even though they had a truce with Karai, Hun and the Purple Dragons, Bishop and Baxter Stockman, it didn't mean that there weren't still crimes being committed; they were just being committed by _other _street thugs or random individuals. And even though Leonardo would admit that their lives were a lot less dangerous than they had been, it didn't mean that they could stray from their mission, or their duties as ninjas.

He stumbled slightly as someone bumped into him. He flinched back from the contact but found that his arm was being held in a firm grip. He balled his hand into a fist, ready to defend himself from what he automatically felt was a threat.

"Sorry," a soft feminine voice said as he caught the profile of a woman dressed as a fairy, threading her way through the crowd. He had a fleeting impression of long golden-brown and copper hair laced with silver ribbons and threaded with cerulean blue and silver leaves. Large ethereal silver wings emerged from her back and bobbed slightly as she vanished into the crowd. He uncurled his fist, hating himself for reacting to a gentle touch as if it was an attack.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, realizing that his brothers might be right about his needing to unwind. Although looking around the crowd, he could admit to himself that he didn't belong here -and not just because he was a mutant turtle pretending he wasn't. It was more that he had no interest in what was going on around him. He didn't know anyone, the crowd was too loud, too many moving bodies in a tight space, he didn't drink, didn't want to get to know anyone, talk to anyone and he was bored.

Whatever his idea of 'fun' was, it wasn't this.

He sighed, knowing he couldn't go home yet. He would have to stay put for at least an hour before he could head back to the lair and pretend he had actually enjoyed himself. He glanced up, eyes darting along the rooftops above him wondering if his brothers had stopped spying on him yet. He could not see shadows hunched within the darkness and determined his brothers were gone.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding and felt his shoulders sag with relief. Just because he couldn't go home didn't mean he had to hang around in the crowd any longer. He would stay, but he could hang around the fringes, rather than in the center.

He made his way carefully through the throng, avoiding the humans and managing to make his way to the back of the crowd. He took in a relieved breath and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The crowd was more manageable here.

A flash of silver caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, dragging his gaze towards an alley where a silver wing slipped from view.

He was about to turn away when he saw two men slink into the alley. Adrenalin flared to life within him, prickling across his skin as his muscles tensed, ready for a fight. Stealthily he fell into the shadows creeping his way towards the entrance of the alley.

Two costumed men were blocking his view of the woman, but he could just make out the curve of a silver wing.

"Come on," one man -the taller of the two- encouraged, a lustful lilt to his voice. "Just one kiss from the pretty fairy, that's all I'm looking for," he edged closer as the woman took a step back, the moon caught her hair, illuminating the silver ribbons and blue and silver leaves.

Recognizing her as the woman that had bumped into him, he slowly slid his katana blades from their sheaths and made his way silently into the alley, ducking into the shadows, the darkness cloaking him and hiding his movements.

"I already told you, no," the woman fumed, sounding more angry than frightened.

"Maybe he'll turn into a handsome prince," the other man, -the shorter, lankier of the two- piped up, and Leonardo wondered if the two men were drunk. There movements were slightly hunched and jerky.

"I don't think any amount of kissing would turn your friend into a handsome anything." she replied scathingly as Leonardo inched closer.

"Oh, snap, she's got a mouth on her," the lanky one said with a hint of humour in his voice.

"I can tell you what else I want her to do with her mouth," the bigger man insinuated, his voice full of laughter at his witty rejoinder.

"You're disgusting," the woman shot back, taking another step away from them. "Just because you look like pigs doesn't mean you have to act like ones."

"We're goblins," the lanky one said smoothly, his costume strongly resembling a pig, or boar, with a pig-like snout and tusks. "What do you expect?"

"Ahh I see," the woman said with laughter lacing her words. "And what would a goblin wish with gold and a fairy's kiss? Do you think that because you are a fairy that I would allow you to get even close to me?"

"I'm a goblin, not a fairy." the bigger man bit back.

The woman laughed. "Still a fairy."

"Call me a fairy again..." the man snarled.

"Fine, fine," she said with a wave of her hand, "Goblin wretch, how is that?"

"Much better," the larger man sniffed smoothing out his clothing, a black armband with a red symbol embroidered onto it.

Leonardo frowned noticing that the lanky man also wore the same armband.

"She's right though, we're still technically fairies," the lanky man put in.

"Shut up, Josh," the larger man growled. "And stop getting sidetracked," he said turning his attention away from his friend and looking at the woman, whose face Leonardo still could not see as the two men began stalking threateningly towards her. "A kiss was just a small tithe, something that would have gotten you a little better treatment. But because you refused, well, now things are going to get very unpleasant for you."

"I can only imagine," she replied sarcastically.

"Wait, Carl, look at her arm." Both men looked at the blue arm band shot through with silver embroidery.

"We found her!" the lanky man shouted enthusiastically.

"Found me?" the woman asked. "Why were you looking for me? There are any number of other-"

"Mandrake wants you," the bigger man said with a satisfied tone.

"W-why? We have a truce," she refuted.

"We never had a truce," the taller man informed her threateningly.

Leonardo was finally able to see her face, the smile falling from her lips, the rest of her expression hidden by the silver half mask she wore.

"If he thinks to ransom me..." she began, but the larger man cut her off.

"He wants _you_."

"Why me?" she asked taking another step back.

"Because your mother is dead."

"W-what?!" she stammered. "That's impossible," she said shaking her head back and forth. "My mother was heavily guarded-"

"Traitors within her guards," the lanky man said smugly. "And Mandrake has heard of your reputed beauty and has spared your life so that you may sit at his feet, slave to his every whim and desire."

"No," she said as she tried to dart away.

Leonardo moved then, leaping from the shadows. "Step away from her," he snarled lowly, swords ready as he slid into a defensive posture.

The two men looked over their shoulders in surprise. "Come on! We found her first," the lanky one whined.

"So you think you can steal her from us and give her to Mandrake and claim all the credit? I don't think so," the larger of the men said as he spun hoisting a battle axe up and over his head before bringing it down. Leonardo spun his finely honed katana blade easily slicing through the wooden handle of the axe.

The bigger man's face was vaguely boar-like as well in appearance. He wasn't wearing a mask, but he was heavily made up with makeup and prosthetic pieces that had been applied to his face to create the pig-like effect. He looked down at the head of his axe which had fallen to the ground.

The two men looked at each other in shock. "Dude, are those real?" the lanky one asked.

Leonardo didn't answer, only lunging at them.

"Poison smoke bomb!" the lanky man yelped as he threw three black fist sized bags at him. Leonardo spun, managing to kick the bags away and back towards the fleeing men. Leonardo then turned, grabbing the woman around her waist and hauling her further into the alley. Ignoring her light flowery scent and the warmth of her body burning through his clothing he waited for the three bags that now lay on the ground to explode or hiss with poisonous gas.

He relaxed, releasing her when the bags did nothing but lay there. He supposed the two men were bluffing; perhaps had planned on using the bags to try to coerce the woman to going with them quietly, possibly by threatening the populace.

He turned to her. He had expected her to run, most of the people they rescued tended to flee as soon as they were able. But she hadn't.

"Are you really taking me to Mandrake?" she asked him. "Or are you on our side since you are wearing blue?"

He frowned at her. "I'm not with them," he answered, sheathing his weapons.

"Then, thank you for saving me," she smiled at him. "But the goblin was right you know, real weapons aren't allowed," she said pointing at his katana blades. "And if you are on our side you should be wearing your colours on your arm," she said stepping into him, her breasts brushing across his jacket covered chest, arms going around his neck. He was so shocked by the movement and by her proximity that he didn't even react as she deftly untied his mask and removed it from around his eyes, before she easily tied it around his upper arm.

She stepped back allowing himself to finally get a good look at her. Her hair fell around and over her shoulders in a waterfall of golden, russet and copper waves. Her pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight, her silver cupid's bow lips raised in a smile. The rest of her face was obscured by a sliver and blue half mask shaped like a delicate butterfly. His eyes travelled down past silver butterfly wings just over her shoulders to a slim figure, the filmy, diaphanous cerulean blue dress lovingly hugging each pleasing curve of her body.

"There we go. Though you don't have a clan mark either, or did you defect?"

"I-what?" he shook himself, feeling confused. The woman had just been told that her mother had been killed and she had almost been kidnapped and she seemed ot be strangely composed.

The smile fell from her face, her hand flying up and covering her mouth. "Oh my God, you aren't larping are you?"

"Huh?" he asked stupidly, finding that she had so far completely managed to rob him of all coherent speech.

"You aren't part of the New York Masque of the Courts Halloween Ball are you?"

"Uh… the what?" he asked feeling out of his depth.

" Live action role playing."

"Live action role playing?" he asked completely mystified.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said hands still held up to her face, before she let out a gasp. "And you thought those guys were really...? I thought the bad acting and lousy dialogue would have given everything away."

"So those men weren't...?" Leonardo's voice trailed off as he walked over and picked up one of the black bags the men had dropped. He opened one poured out the rice that was inside. He felt his own cheeks heat with embarrassment. He closed his eyes, realizing that he was wound so tightly, he was looking for trouble where there wasn't any.

"Uh...no. It's part of the game," she answered. "The two courts the Seelie and Unseelie are to meet on All Hallows Eve when the borders between this world and the other world is at its thinnest. So they have a ball, drink and dance, but apparently the Unseelie's King has decided to...sorry." she cut herself off with an embarrassed cough. "I don't normally...my co-worker Marissa was supposed to play the Seelie princess Aeri, but she came down with laryngitis, and bronchitis, so she asked me to fill in. I agreed since I knew what was going on because that is all she has talked about for...and I wasn't busy... and I'm rambling, sorry."

"No, that's okay," he said opening his eyes and standing, feeling like an idiot.

Seeming to sense his discomfort and possibly his irritation, she approached him slowly. "But seriously, if I had have been in trouble, I know I would have appreciated the help, so thank you."

He gave a hitched shrug, and took a deep breath. He tried to look at the bright side, at least someone had actually thanked him for saving them -even if she hadn't actually _needed_ saving- it was nice to not be feared more than the perpetrators they were usually saving the victims from.

"And with the fancy sword work, I take it that you practice a lot."

He gave a half smile which felt strained, bitter even. "You could say that." He mentally shook himself realizing that he was getting upset because he knew the only reason this woman wasn't running away from him in fear was because she thought he was in a costume.

"I feel bad now." She reached out and touched his arm.

He flinched slightly and looked down at his arm, surprised by the gentle touch. The only human who ever touched them without the intent of injury was April, and not recoiling was something he found hard not to do.

"I wish I could repay you in some way..." she bit her lip and his eyes drifted over the silver lips, indented slightly by her white teeth. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to pretend to be human, for just one night. Maybe kiss a woman, feel her touch without her drawing away in horror.

So deep in his thoughts had he fallen that he almost completely missed her next words.

"...Fairy kiss brings good luck and a thirty pound bag of gold," she said with an embarrassed smile. "That's why the 'goblins' wanted...never mind."

He blinked down at her as she stepped into him. "May good fortune smile upon you," she said with a self depreciating smile, "Knight Errant," she gave him a kiss on the cheek, pausing for a moment and then pulling away.

She was looking at him, but he was unable to read her expression -hidden as it was behind the mask- but he felt that suddenly something had changed. He body language shifted and he felt his muscles tighten, his fight or flight responses flushing his body with skin tingling adrenalin.

She took another slow step back, tipping her head to the side. A buzzing noise came from her side and she jumped slightly before rummaging around in the folds of her filmy, frothy, layered blue gown.

"Eleven o'clock," she said looking at cell phone. "That means we all gather for the Ball, and I suspect Coronation too, since Mandrake 'killed' my mother. Which means I become Queen of the Seelie court. And Mandrake's evil plains have been foiled for another year."

He looked at her and he had no idea what expression was upon his face because he didn't know what emotions to feel. She had lightly kissed him on the cheek, but her lips had been soft and warm and had sent a spark of something through him.

"Right...uh...thanks again," she said swiftly walking past him.

He didn't know what to say or do, and knew there wasn't anything he _could_ do. It wasn't as if he had any reason to talk with her anymore, and she was obviously busy, doing her...larping thing...

Manners however forced him to acknowledge her words of gratitude. "You are welcome," he turned and bowed his head to her.

She gave an awkward wave before turning on her heel and striding towards the mouth of the alley. Her pace slowed and she mumbled something under her breath, turning around, but now slowly walking backwards. "Are you busy?" she asked motioning with her cell phone. "Since I'm the Queen now, I could use an Knight Errant to protect me from the rampant Unseelie hordes until Midnight when the veil rises and we vanish into the night. "

Every instinct within him screamed at him to decline, turn and vanish into the shadows and forget the fairy woman in front of him. There would be no point. Much like Cinderella the night would end at midnight, and the beauty offered in front of him would vanish, and his coach would turn back into a pumpkin. He swallowed, about to decline her offer, but instead he gave a respectful bow. "As my Queen commands."

"And what do I call you, Sir Knight?"

"Leonardo," he answered truthfully, not even trying to come up with pseudonym.

"Well then, Sir Leonardo, shall we?" She held out her hand and after a moment's hesitation, took it.

* * *

**Thoughts and opinions are always welcome:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all! Here is chapter 2 please enjoy!**

**And thank you to my lovely reviewers, Sleepingseeker, Dondena, Mela989898, CelicaChick, Diana Fay, Rocky181 and rinpup14 your reviews are very appreciated!**

* * *

Chapter 2

**Leonardo** had no idea what he was doing. Actually, he knew exactly what he was doing, he just didn't know _why _he was doing it.

The 'Ball' had ended.

_There were bad speeches, promises of revenge and a few 'fights' and Leonardo found himself thinking that the whole thing was silly. He supposed that perhaps if he hadn't spent so many years fighting, and having his life in almost constant danger, that he might be a little entertained by the notion. The idea of pretending that he was someone different and immersing himself in a fantasy world where the only danger was from bruises gained by being hit with a fake sword or axe, was a nice one he supposed. After all, for some reason he seemed strangely loathe for the night to come to an end. Though perhaps it had more to do with the woman he stood beside than the actual setting._

_His 'Queen' was feted upon, proposed to, threatened, given flowery speeches and had allegiances pledged during the hour long 'Ball' portion of the evening. There was even been dancing to which the 'Queen' had 'danced' -if you could call the strange circling, courtly movements they were doing dancing. _

_The last dance was a waltz which his 'Queen' had dragged him up and onto the parquet floor of the hotel banquet hall that had been rented for the occasion. Leonardo -never having had the opportunity to dance- had felt for the first time in his life, ungainly, awkward, unsure and clumsy. His 'Queen' patiently explained the steps and after the third time stepping on her foot, decided to sit the rest of the dance out._

_The dance ended at midnight and the revellers had slowly filtered out, most removing their masks, others keeping them on and vanishing like the fae they were supposed to be._

_A fanciful notion floated through Leonardo's head, wondering if any of the 'fae' had been as inhuman as he was, perhaps an actual fairy or two, joining in the Fairy Raid before vanishing. _

_His 'Queen' stood and gave him a curtsey, which dragged him from his whimsical thoughts. "It was nice meeting you, Leonardo." _

_"You too," he said not even knowing her real name, only her moniker of Queen Aeri._

_"Perhaps we'll meet again," she said as she began to move past him._

_He grabbed her arm as she passed. She looked down at her arm in surprise and he found himself staring with shock at his own hand, which seemed to have moved of its own volition._

_"Let me walk you home, or to your car," he quickly offered noting that she had not bothered to call a taxi or pull out a set of keys._

_At his words she looked up at him, eyes and emotions still hidden beneath her mask. "I-" she began but he interrupted. _

_"The Queen should not roam the night unescorted," he prompted, uneasily._

_He felt her relax, not even realizing that her muscles had tightened beneath his grip. He quickly pulled his hand away from the warm velvet heat of her arm._

_"I suppose an armed escort for the now former 'Queen' wouldn't be such a bad thing," she said impishly, and he felt himself swept back into the fantasy they had been enacting._

_That was when he realized that as silly as he had thought the whole night had been, he found that he didn't want it to end. He had been unknowingly drawn into and fallen under the spell of the world that had been created, and he was now desperately trying to push reality away for a few more moments._

_He walked her a few blocks away where she had parked her car. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, lips pursed slightly. "Do you need a ride?" she asked him._

_He shook his head, their dream world crumbling around the edges as he looked at the woman in front of him; a woman whose name he didn't even know, and whose face he had never seen, but whose quick wit and humour had drawn him to her none the less. He looked at the dark SUV, knowing that the night had ended, reality stripping everything away._

_"No," he answered with a shake of his head, the magic of the night vanishing, as he stood not in front of a Fairy Queen and he her loyal guard, but rather, a flesh and blood woman, and he a mutant turtle, who could never be part of her world._

_She gave a small nod and unlocked her vehicle with a beep of the remote and opened the door pausing before sliding in. "I know it's late, but I feel kind of wound up. Do you want to hang out for a bit more at my place?" she asked him. "And that isn't a sexual invitation or anything," she inserted quickly. "Just, you know, getting to know each other better, without all the crazy." _

_"I can't," he said with genuine regret, because he couldn't. This ended right now, no matter how much he was tempted to keep pretending that he was just a human man inside a turtle costume. But Midnight had tolled and his carriage had turned back into a pumpkin._

_She nodded, seeming to understand. "Scared I'm going to find out that you're not human?" she asked innocently as she slid into the driver's seat, closing the door with a soft click._

_He stared at her with open mouthed shock as she gave him a mischievous smile. She motioned with her head towards the passenger seat and he didn't move, too stunned to do anything but stare at her stupidly._

_She rolled down the window. "Come on, get in," she said starting the ignition._

_He snapped his mouth shut, heart hammering uncomfortably in his throat as indecision darted fast and furious through him. But with Raphael's words ringing in his ears, he swallowed down his reservations, and opted to be reckless..._

Which was why he was slowly walking up the front steps of a four story converted brownstone, his eyes locked upon the silver gossamer fairy wings that bobbed lightly in front of him.

He had been amazed that she had been able to drive with them on, but she had left her mask on as well, which had him nearly bursting with a terrified sort of curiosity. He wanted to glimpse her face to see if the rest of it matched the beauty of her soft cupid's bow lips, smooth alabaster skin, strong jaw, and stubborn chin. He also wanted to know her name, but as she hadn't offered it, wondered if her name was actually Aeri.

On the car ride to her apartment, had asked her how she had known he wasn't human. She had replied that there was a different between silicone rubber and skin. He had then asked her when she had discovered the truth and she had told him when she had kissed his cheek he didn't smell like plastic, but of something like musk and incense, and that she had been able to see his pulse hammering in his throat when she had stepped close to him; the breath leaving his mouth and nose, and the feel of his slightly colder skin upon her lips.

He had felt himself pale and flush with the realization that the entire time he had been with her, she had known he wasn't human, and she hadn't cared, or at least, she hadn't made any indication one way or the other that she was bothered by the fact.

When he had asked why she had asked him to come along when she knew he wasn't human, she had just replied with a mischievous smile that she was "Queen of the Fairies, I couldn't really turn away a loyal subject who had saved me from two horrible and ferocious goblins who had intended to give me to the Unseelie king to be his slave. And besides, if you really _were_ a fairy, I was so not going to anger you, after all, you never mess with the fae."

He had stared at her in disbelief and wondered if she had really believed him to be a fairy. The thought almost brought a smile to his face. He had been accused of being many things, but never a fairy. He did not offer to tell her what he was, and she didn't ask. He wanted to press her for the reason why she had not been afraid of him, but instead they had lapsed into what could be considered a comfortable silence before they had driven up to a four storey brownstone located on a quiet street in the upper west side.

She parked in front of the ornate stone row houses, turned off the ignition and slid from the seat.

He wondered then if it was recklessness that drove him forward, or if it was curiosity. He was not normally curious by nature like Donatello was, and tended to be too cautious to let curiosity get the better of him. And yet he walked up the steps behind her anyway; a stranger who he didn't know, because he was oddly intrigued. _Curiosity killed the cat, _his inner voice taunted.

As she was opening the door he felt sudden reservation flare through him. He felt as if he had reached a crossroads in his life; a fork in the road where going forward would change his life forever, and stepping back would maintain his status quo.

She pushed open the heavy, dark stained wooden door and went inside. After a moment's hesitation he stepped inside the darkened foyer; heart hammering, fear coursing through him, adrenalin pumping and feeling oddly exhilarated and alive.

She turned on the light revealing a small foyer that had seen better days. A wall stood mostly demolished, the bare studs and electrical exposed; another was covered with ripped and torn green flowered wallpaper. Heavy cloth tarps covered the floor as did other building materials, which made him think that the area was being renovated.

His eyes scanned what he could see of the house and tried to sense danger.

"It was converted into apartments sometime in the 40's I think," she offered seeing him looking around intently. "But I am in the process of un-converting them...reconverting...? Restoring? There we go. I am restoring it to its former glory," she said in explanation of the chaos of construction that filled the foyer.

He took a few steps forward before stopping. "So...you own...the entire house?" he asked in disbelief, knowing that houses like this would easily run into the millions of dollars, even in its current condition.

She chuckled and shook her head. "My family has owned it forever, as in generations. And by family I mean my extended family, my uncle to be exact. I am earning my keep by organizing, supervising and hiring contractors to do the work. I have also had to research and try to reconstruct what the house looked like before almost two centuries of shifting styles and plain bad taste ripped through this place and did horrible, horrible things to it." She gave him a lopsided grin, but for some reason he could tell that her words were not idle and she was not doing this to 'earn her keep' but was in fact deeply passionate about restoring the house to its former glory.

She motioned him in, deftly stepping over a paint cloth and a pile of baseboards. "I'm starting with the garden and parlour levels, and only use the upper floor right now. The two stories above that are a mess as well."

They made their way up the slightly curved wooden stair case, the banister draped with a heavy white tarp placed there probably to protect the wood.

Reaching the upper floor, he felt more comfortable in the smaller apartment. There was a narrow living room and kitchen area, as well as a three doors down a short hallway that were closed, mostly likely two bedrooms, a bathroom and a linen closet.

She motioned for him to make himself comfortable on an old brown leather couch whose leather had been worn down to a fine sheen. He sank into the leather and was surprised at how comfortable it was.

"Just make yourself at home, I'll be right back, I need to get out of this costume," she said as she drifted down the hallway slipping into the room at the end.

Feeling oddly nervous he stood and wandered around the small, open room finally stopping in front of the fire place. It was surrounded by a large ornate grey stone mantle. The mantle itself held a few nick-knacks, and he looked around to see if he could find any photographs of the mystery woman and found none.

He turned his attention back to the nick-knacks. He picked one up and studied it without actually seeing what it was in his hands; he was suddenly filled with too much turmoil. He glanced towards a window and knew that he would be able to make a quick escape if he needed to. He could even just go out the front door.

_I shouldn't be here._

Panic was starting to fill him, his heart beating swiftly in his chest, his skin tingling with apprehension and indecision.

He heard soft footsteps behind him and he quickly turned around. His Fairy Queen strode in, hands buried within a towel that she was curling around her head, her petite body still dripping with small droplets of water that trickled down her bare skin.

Her arm covered her upper face, leaving her lush lips, strong jaw and stubborn chin exposed. Of course her lower face was only given a quick, cursory look as his eyes had unwillingly slid down and roved over every exposed, glorious feminine curve of her naked body. His eyes devoured everything, from her perfectly proportioned breasts, and flat stomach, to her round ass and lithe legs.

She was a Nymph, risen from a pristine lake to give mere mortals the chance to view paradise. _No, not a nymph_, he corrected, _A Siren._ That was more what she was_. Or perhaps tempting demon..._ He mentally shook his head at this, something so beautiful could not be a demon. His mind slid back to the idea of a Siren, spawned from the depths of a tumultuous sea to tempt men and lead them to their Doom.

This banquet of flesh so overloaded his senses -which were now reeling in complete and utter shock- that he dropped the _whatever it was_ that he held in his hand. The sound of something hard crashing and breaking on the floor echoed and filled the silence of the room, because _whatever it was_, was apparently breakable.

The Siren's head shot around, hands still buried in the towel, dark lashed green eyes widening in surprise, her entire body tensing as she froze.

Leonardo stared stupidly at her, not knowing what to say or even where to look, but his eyes seemed to be unable to move away from the beautiful woman. _'Tales of her beauty,' _that had been what one of the goblins had said in regards to her, and he had to admit, he believed they had not quite added enough adjectives before the word 'beauty'; like _sublime, magnificent,_ or _breathtaking_.

Quick footsteps ran down the hall and skidded to a stop. Leonardo's eyes flew to the interloper and did a double-take. A second woman had entered the room. She was wearing plaid black and purple flannel pajama bottoms and a black lacy bra, her shirt held in her hands. But of course he wasn't really studying what she was wearing as he was too busy looking back and forth between the two women's faces which were identical to each other.

The momentary tableau was suddenly shattered by the woman who had just entered the room. "What did you brea- Elizabeth!?" she gaped in shock, not even looking at him, her attention focused upon the other woman.

"Friend of yours?" The Siren named Elizabeth nodded towards Leonardo with her head.

Leonardo realized that he had unknowingly taken a step and a half backwards, until his carapace had hit the mantle of the fireplace behind him; stopping him from retreating any further.

Blood was rushing through his ears and his heart was hammering almost painfully in his chest. He didn't know what was going on, but realized that if he wanted to escape, he would have to go out the window or try to get past the two women -one of which was glaring at the other- hands on her hips, shirt forgotten in her hand.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing here?" The Fairy Queen asked in a long suffering voice, ignoring the other woman's question.

"Ohhh I get it," Elizabeth said. "He's one of the guys from your geeky little larping thing," Elizabeth said with an understanding nod as she pulled the towel from her head, but did not bother to cover herself with it.

Leonardo could hear the other woman sigh as his gaze shot back and forth between the two women who could only be twin sisters. Elizabeth had short, dark, almost black hair that was curling slightly; chin length in the front, and only about half an inch long in the back. Her sister -the woman Leonardo had spent the evening with, his Fairy Queen- had long curling hair that nearly reached her waist, and was copper, gold and russet hued in colour.

_Perhaps fraternal rather than identical twins?_ he wondered. Though the women looked identical so it was possible that Elizabeth had dyed her hair to look different than her sister.

"It's not geeky," she replied, and then crossed her arms over her ample chest as her sister raised an eyebrow. "Fine, it's geeky," she admitted, "but it was fun, now get some clothes on."

Elizabeth smiled a lazy smile. "I probably just gave this guy the best night of his life. Twenty bucks says he's never seen a naked women in real life." She looked over at him with a flirtatious smile and Leonardo swallowed, a hot blush of embarrassment at the truth of her words stealing across his face.

A dark brow was raised at Elizabeth's words.

Elizabeth let out a puff of air and rolled her eyes. "You're such a prude," she said, her own arms crossing over her chest.

"I am not a prude," her sister shot back evenly. "I just don't go walking around naked."

"Sure you do," Elizabeth retorted.

'"Not when I have guests over."

"I didn't know you were bringing back a guy! That's not usually your thing."

It was the Fairy Queen's turn to blush. "He's not a one night stand," she hissed.

Elizabeth waved off her sister's words as Leonardo's gaze flew back and forth between the two women. He felt another wave of embarrassment crash through him, and felt as if he should leave, vanish and pretend the whole night never happened. But for some reason he felt rooted to the spot, unable to pull himself away, and trapped by some perverse sort of fascination.

"If you say so." Elizabeth shrugged.

"Lizzy," she ground out, "what are you doing here?"

Elizabeth's easy smile fell from her face, falling into irritated lines. "Where else was I supposed to go, Kitty?"

The Fairy Queen's eyes flashed with irritation. "Don't call me 'Kitty'."

"Don't call me Lizzy." Elizabeth shot back as the two women locked wills with each other.

"Elizabeth." The Fairy Queen said evenly.

"Catherine," Elizabeth ground out.

"You have your own apartment," Catherine pointed out reasonably.

"My place is being fumigated, or whatever. I got back after work and they've got sniffer dogs going through it. The whole place has been infested with beg bugs." She shuddered. "Just thinking about it makes me itchy."

Catherine herself shuddered a little and Leonardo had to admit that his skin crawled a slightly as well.

"I needed someplace to crash...and clothes. And even though your clothes are all boring, they are better than parasite infested ones. And I would rather share a bed with you than the bugs."

Catherine's shoulders slumped in defeat; a reaction to a sibling Leonardo was overly familiar with.

"Fine," Catherine said with a wave of her hand. "But I seriously hope you didn't just throw your clothes in my garbage."

"Nah, I like triple bagged them. They're still in the bathroom. I was going to take them out into the garden and burn them, but I needed to get some clothes from your closet, and I wondered if you had a lighter somewhere so I decide to look for one."

"Naked? And you can't burn things in the patio area."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Just watch me. And people pay me to be naked, it's no big deal. And if you weren't such a prude they would pay you to be naked too. And we could charge so much more if we did it together. "

Catherine sighed as Leonardo's brow ridges shot up in surprise, his mouth falling open in shock.

Elizabeth blinked. "That totally came out sounding like I'm a stripper didn't it?"

"Yes, yes it did." Catherine nodded, a blush still evident across her cheeks. "Fine then you have to deal with the fire department."

"I'm not, but the way," Elizabeth said as a slight aside to him as she finally wrapped her towel around her body. "And I like firemen." She smiled a lascivious smile and gave her sister a wink. "Especially if they look anything like the ones from Chicago Fire.

Catherine let out a long suffering sigh.

"So is he going to just stand there and gawk or is he gonna take off the costume?" Elizabeth turned her curious green eyes upon him. "I want to see if any hot guys actually do this larping thing." Her eyes narrowed in speculation.

Catherine surprised him by replying, "He's not wearing a costume. So your little display," she made a motion with her hand, "Probably did nothing for him."

Leonardo- shocked at her words- looked towards the entrance, gauging just how long it would take him to get out the front door; before his eyes flicked to the closer and better option of the window.

"Really?" Elizabeth's eyes widened for a moment before filling with interested curiosity rather than the expected horror. "He just got more interesting. Alien, fairy, science experiment, undiscovered species? What?"

"I didn't ask," Catherine easily answered.

"Why the hell not?" Elizabeth asked in shock.

"Because he didn't offer and to prod him would have been rude," she replied firmly.

Elizabeth pursed her lips in thought. "I'm impressed, Cat. Only you could manage to go out larping with a bunch of geeks dressed up pretending to be inhuman creatures, and you bring the only real one home," she said with sly look at her sister.

"Elizabeth," Catherine pleaded.

"Fine, I'll get dressed, but I am not letting you have him all to yourself," she said with a broad grin before turning and walking back down the hall to where Catherine had exited from moments earlier.

"Oh and, Big Sis," Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, 'big sis' sounding like an ironic drawl, "you're standing in your underwear."

Catherine looked down at herself in shock letting out a mortified squeak, and quickly covering her torso with her arms and shirt.

"And if you were wondering...he's totally interested in human women," Elizabeth added flirtatiously, punctuating her words with a sway of her hips as she reached the bedroom door.

Leonardo didn't think his embarrassment could get any deeper, but he was wrong. He didn't even bother looking down at his pants, he could already feel himself straining against the suddenly too tight fabric. He wanted to sink into the floor and disappear as his entire body burned with the discomfort of having been caught enjoying the views he had been afforded.

Catherine's eyes shot to his and her face went tomato red. His probably wasn't much better, though his would be a dark green instead.

She buried her burning face in her shirt, which she still held in her hands.

"I retract my statement about getting to know you without all the crazy," Catherine mumbled into her shirt. "I dragged you _to_ all the crazy." She peeked up at him a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she met his eyes.

The whole situation was so ridiculous, it was laughable. Leonardo looked at her a moment, his eyes straying down the hallway before back to the woman in front of him. Maybe he was tired, maybe he was in shock, or maybe he believed he was dreaming. Whatever the case was, Leonardo felt his own smile pulling at the corners of his lips in answer to her smile, and he found himself opening his mouth as sudden and unexpected laughter tumbled forth.

She gave an answering snicker before she burst into laughter, both of them clutching at their sides as the sound of their mirth flooded the room.

* * *

**Thoughts and opinions are always welcome:)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I would like to thank Loving Leo, Rocky181, rinpup14. Diana Fay, SleepingSeeker and mela989898 for your wonderful reviews, they are what keep me writing! :D**

**Hope everyone enjoys this next chapter:)**

* * *

Chapter 3

**Leonardo** didn't know how long he had stayed at Catherine's, but it had to have been for more than just a few hours before he had finally left the two tired women to make his way back to the lair.

His and his family's entire life had been effortlessly pulled from his lips, made easier by the wine that Elizabeth had offered up after she had flatly rejected the suggestion of tea from her sister, Catherine.

Leonardo would have preferred tea, but had agreed that the occasion seemed to call for the stronger beverage, and as Leonardo was still experiencing the high of giving into recklessness and curiosity, swallowed down two glasses of wine; which was by far the most alcohol than he had ever consumed before in one sitting. This was part of the reason why he was sitting upon the ledge of a building, watching the sky lighten as the sun began to slowly make its way past the horizon. He had decided that he wasn't about to walk into the lair not drunk per say, but definitely tipsy. The other part of the reason why his feet hadn't made the trek home was a sort of whimsical desire to watch as Halloween night was officially extinguished by the burning light of the day.

He had believed that the magic of the evening had ceased when he had climbed into the SUV with Catherine, but his pumpkin had still been a carriage, albeit a jet black one with a leather interior.

While Elizabeth had grilled him about every single aspect of his life, Catherine had sat back and watched him with intelligent moss green eyes, offering up a question or a thought here and there, but not bothering to push if he felt uncomfortable about something, and somehow managing to rein in Elizabeth's more domineering spirit if the occasion called for it.

His mind still reeled over the fact that these women had completely accepted him for what he was; more curious than disgusted and openly hospitable. He had asked why they weren't bothered by what he was, and both women gave an identical shrug. _'It is good to know that the world that we think we know isn't the only world that exists.'_ had been Catherine's reply. _'You're kinda cute.'_ had been Elizabeth's reply and it had made him blush.

He had then worried that the women may tell someone of his existence, but as he was leaving, they had smiled and told him that his secret was safe with them. He had thanked them, and left with a strangely lighter heart. He knew he would never see either of them again; he couldn't. He didn't want or need to drag any humans into his life because it was dangerous.

_But,_ he mused to himself as the sun crested a few high-rises, _perhaps next year I will wander into the Halloween realm of the gallivanting Fae, and maybe dance with the Queen of the Fairies again before I have to vanish again_.

He shook the fanciful thought from his head, and tried to shake the last of the alcohol from his system. He looked down at his palm and studied the small cat he had broken. He had hastily scooped the two pieces up off the floor and stashed them in his jacket pocket. He had meant to give them to Catherine and apologize for breaking the Egyptian cat, but had become flustered and distracted and had then forgotten completely about it until -while walking home- he felt the heaviness in his pocket. He looked at it again and placed it back in his pocket, not knowing what to do about the cat, but knowing there was nothing he _could _do. He was pretty sure Elizabeth had seen what he had dropped, and hope that Elizabeth told Catherine and that she wasn't angry about it.

He stood and made his way home trying to banish the image of an intense pair of moss green eyes from his mind.

* * *

**Raphael** seethed as he paced back and forth in the living room. He had probably been this angry at some point during his lifetime, but right now, it felt as if he had never been this angry...ever.

However, if he were to admit the truth to himself his intense fury was actually barely masking the heart crushing worry that attempted to steal the breath from his lungs and stop his heart cold; but he couldn't admit it, because to admit it was to accept it, and he never accepted anything.

It had taken all of his willpower to not go in search of his older brother when he discovered that it was 2:00 am and his brother had yet to return. He had fully expected that his blue masked brother would be gone for an hour or two, and return, bored and irritated, but secure in the fact that he had _tried_ to have a good time, and thus silencing his brother's complaints, and forcing them to leave him well enough alone.

Only it hadn't happened that way. Raphael had fallen asleep during one of Michelangelo's horrible horror movies and had found both of his younger brothers fast asleep as well. He had woken each brother up and shooed them off to bed before Raphael had checked Leonardo's room, fully expecting to see his older brother either meditating or sleeping. Instead, Leonardo's room as well as the rest of the lair had been free of his brother's presence. And that was when Raphael had felt it; a small bubble of apprehension invading his mind and settling into his gut where it had boiled and festered, giving rise to a barely controllable rage that was thinly masking the stomach churning worry that rolled through him.

But he had refused to go chasing after his brother, and had refused to call him because if Leonardo was in trouble, he would have called; letting them know that he needed help.

There had of course been the possibility that his brother had actually found something interesting and was actually enjoying himself, but Raphael believed this to be doubtful. Instead, he strongly suspected that his brother was getting revenge upon him, by making Raphael worry with the same heart clenching, gut rolling apprehension that Raphael always inflicted upon his older sibling. And if that were indeed the case, he was doing a hell of a job because Raphael was -at this point- ready to rend something or somebody limb from limb.

He continued to wear a hole in the stone floor, jaw clenched, muscles taunt, hands white knuckled and fisted.

His heart suddenly leapt into his throat as he heard the door to the lair slide open and close. He watched as his older brother strode into the living room, in one piece and completely unharmed.

The fact that his brother hadn't been injured in any way shape or form should have sent a wave of relief through him -which it did- but the emotion was so fleeting as to be completely indiscernible. Instead, the worry that had been pushing against the rage fell away, leaving only blinding red fury in its wake.

"WHERE THE _**HELL**_ HAVE YOU BEEN!" Raphael roared loud enough that he had probably woken up his other two sleeping brothers, but he didn't care. He was beyond reason because Leonardo was back, safe and sound and Raphael had spent the past four hours sick to death with worry, which made him furious.

Leonardo stopped and looked at him, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. "Raph?" he asked in confusion. "Did you wait up all night?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised, the faint scent of alcohol drifting off his brother. Raphael didn't think much of the smell, after all Leonardo rarely drank and it wouldn't be the first time some drunken party goer had spilled a drink upon an innocent bystander. And besides, he was way too damn angry to care _what_ his brother smelled like.

"I was worried SICK! You stayed out all night and then you have the -the...you come waltzing in here like it's no big deal!"

"Raph..." Leonardo help up his hands trying to get him to calm down, which only infuriated him more.

"For all I knew you were lying dead in an alley somewhere!" he snarled. "Or one of our old enemies crawled out of whatever hole they were hidin' in and kidnapped you! You could have called. No, you _should_ have called!" He strode up to his blue masked-

This thought ground to a halt as he finally listened to the little warning bells that were going off in his head about his brother's appearance.

"Leo...where's your mask?" he asked feeling almost a little breathless as panic spiked through him.

"Huh?" Leonardo asked in confusion as Raphael's eyes scanned his brother's body searching for signs of injury and found his brother's mask wrapped around Leonardo's upper arm.

Raphael' couldn't see any blood seeping through the fabric, but his jacket may have staunched most of the flow. Concern flooded through him, replacing his anger as he asked, "What happened? You okay?"

Leonardo's fingers shot to his face and then to his arm, staring at the mask as if he had no idea how it had gotten there, or why it was on his arm instead of across his eyes.

The metallic taste of fear slid across Raphael's tongue as his heart began to pound against his ribcage. His brother had to be in shock; Leonardo's eyes were heavy and slightly glazed, and he seemed disoriented as if he wasn't really sure what was going on.

Leonardo continued to stare at his arm as if entranced until he spoke. "The Queen of the Fairies made me her guard for the night and dragged me into a dreamland," he answered softly, making no move to remove the mask and place it back around his head. This lack of movement worried him more than his brother's confusing words. The only time they ever removed their masks was when they showered, to bind a wound -or if they had been hurt badly enough- to lay more comfortably upon the cot located in Donatello's lab.

"But all dreams end," Leonardo mumbled so softly that Raphael had barely been able to catch his older brother's words, and may not even have heard them right. Leonardo looked up at Raphael and frowned as if he hadn't realized that he had been talking. "I'm okay, Raph," he said with a slight smile that didn't quite have Raphael convinced of its legitimacy.

"Leo-"

"Sorry I worried you," Leonardo apologized. "G'night, Raph, you'd better get some sleep." And with that his brother turned and walked to the stairs that led to the upper floor where their bedrooms were located.

Raphael stared at his brother with open mouthed shock as his brother walked up the stairs and passed both Michelangelo and Donatello on the way.

Michelangelo rubbed the sleep from his eyes but wore a lopsided grin, while Donatello looked more confused and worried than amused.

"Awwhhh look at Raphie all acting the mother hen," Michelangelo chuckled.

"Shut up, Mikey!" Raphael snapped. He tried to hold onto his anger, but it had already died a swift death, worry firmly rooting itself in his gut instead.

Michelangelo grinned. "I think Leo gave you that exact same lecture last month," he pointed out, undeterred by the forced anger in Raphael's voice.

"Mikey," Raphael warned.

"But you just yelled back at him and then I'm pretty sure punches were thrown, and you were pissed for like...a week. Of course that was because Leo basically grounded you and kept you in the lair for a week." Raphael ground his teeth together in anger. "You gonna try to ground Leo, that'd be interesting," Michelangelo mused.

"Go to bed, Mikey." Raphael bit out through a jaw clenched so tight that Raphael was amazed he was able to get the words out.

Michelangelo gave Raphael a shrug, apparently bored at not having got as much of a reaction from his hot headed brother as he had hoped, and turned, walking back down the hallway to his bedroom.

Raphael's eyes then sought out his genius brother's chocolate brown gaze. "You think he's okay?"

Donatello seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I guess we will see how he is when he wakes up."

Raphael nodded, exhaustion sinking into his very bones and causing his shoulders to droop slightly. He dragged his fingers down his face. "Kay," he answered, just wanting to go to bed and pretend he hadn't been acting like Leonardo these past few hours.

Raphael tiredly made his way to bed and fell into an exhausted slumber.

* * *

**Raphael** watched his older brother with keen interest as Leonardo slid easily from one kata position to the next. His movements were sure, swift, and perfectly executed, but it seemed to Raphael that the usual focus, enthusiasm and enjoyment -if you could call hours and hours of doing the same physical routines over and over...and over, and over and over again as _enjoyment_- was not there. It was as if Leonardo was moving through the motions out of habit, but his mind was a million miles away.

It had been almost a month since Leonardo had come home the early morning after being forced to go and have some fun with the humans on Halloween night, and his brother hadn't been the same since.

The worst part was that Raphael couldn't actually put his finger on what exactly was different about his brother. Leonardo was just as stern, and strict as he usually was; his training and daily routines were exactly the same, and their patrols were as frequent and thorough as they usually were, but there was something off; a slight distraction or preoccupation that seemed to be seeping into his brother's manners and stealing away his attention at times. There was also the eating. His brother though not as hearty of an eater as he usually was, seemed to be less interested in eating, and at times only scrambled the food around together. If it was anyone else but Leonardo, Raphael would say they were depressed; only depressed didn't seem right. Leonardo wasn't sad, he was just..._something_.

They had all pressed Leonardo for details on what had happened Halloween night, but their brother had only told then that he had been bored for most of the night, had stopped an attack upon a woman in an alley and had been thanked for his efforts. He had then said he had met a few humans that hadn't been too bad, and then wandered around the city for the rest of the night, until he had come home at dawn.

Raphael hadn't believed his brother for a minute and knew he was hiding something, but he wasn't sure exactly _what_ his brother was hiding. His brother's strange words when he had entered the lair the morning after Halloween had still confused him, and when questioned in private about them, Leonardo had only replied that _'It was Halloween, and now that it's over, we are part of the shadows again.'_

Leonardo's tone had been soft, not angry or sad, only stating a fact; one all of them knew only too well. Leonardo had then refused to offer up any other explanations. He had however asked Donatello if he had ever heard of 'larping' and Donatello had easily answered an affirmative and that it was 'Live action role playing'. When pressed he said he had run into some people who were 'larping' and left it at that. He hadn't even told them whether or not he had actually had any fun, or if he had spent the entire night being miserable.

The sound of Leonardo sheathing his swords brought Raphael back to the present. His older brother walked over and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead and neck before leaving the training room to go and take a shower. Raphael- who was beating the crap out of his heavy bag- watched his brother, his eyes thoughtfully following Leonardo out of the room.

Michelangelo strode into the training room a few minutes later, looking unusually contemplative bordering on worried. His baby brother hopped up and sat down upon the table that had been placed along the wall closest to Raphael.

Michelangelo didn't say anything for a few minutes, his mind apparently occupied; which began to worry Raphael. His baby brother could at times shed light onto a particular foible, trait, or inner working of their minds and actions every now and then, and at this moment, Raphael strongly suspected that his brother was going to impart a small nugget of wisdom regarding their older brother.

Raphael gave his heavy bag one last punch before stepping back, hopefully breaking Michelangelo from his abstraction.

"I think we broke him," Michelangelo finally said into the silence of the room that had been -up until that point- filled with Raphael's heavy breathing, and grunts of exertion.

Raphael frowned and walked over to the table, Michelangelo handing him a towel. "What the hell are you talking about, Mikey?" he growled, changing his mind about his brother actually giving him any insight into why their big brother was acting a little off.

"Well..." he began as if he was trying to understand his own words, "Leo's...Leo."

"He's an uptight ass who has no life and expects us not to have one either," Raphael snapped viciously, trying to drown out the worry he found beginning to churn in his gut.

Michelangelo frowned giving his brother an irritated look. "You know that's not true, Raph. He just always thinks he's responsible for us, that's all."

"We're adults, Mikey, we don't need him tryin' to be our father," he snarled, suddenly angry.

Michelangelo only sighed at Raphael's anger before continuing. "I think something happened."

Raphael's anger was momentarily diverted, interest piqued. "Like what?" he asked crossing his arms over his chest and keeping the growl in his voice so Michelangelo didn't think he actually _cared_ why Leonardo was acting weird.

When Michelangelo didn't answer right away, Raphael wondered if Michelangelo was trying to take his idea and put it into words, or if he was just trying to put his words into smaller words so that Raphael would be able to understand them. And suspecting the latter began to grind his teeth together in irritation. He wasn't _that_ stupid.

Michelangelo seemed to sense his sudden change in mood and blurted out, "Looking after us is Leo's _job_."

"The hell it is!" he barked back.

Michelangelo waved away his protest searching for a new explanation, or to add to the one that he had just given. "We may not think so, and I don't think Leo thinks of it as his _job_, more _duty_...but it's basically his job. So to do his job, he trains, then he makes us train, makes us patrol, makes sure we have food, shelter, rest, fun, you know, everything. He spends so much time worrying about us, that he's never thought about himself, other than in terms of what he can do to make himself do a better job at looking after us."

Raphael narrowed his eyes in annoyed contemplation. "So you're sayin' that Leo just realized that he's boring, has no hobbies, and is an overbearing-"

"_No_," Michelangelo snapped sending another glare Raphael's way, which Raphael easily ignored. "I think that maybe he just realized that we don't need him anymore, or maybe he realized that he's lonely, or-"

"So you're sayin' you have no idea why Leo's been acting the way he is," he interrupted sharply, ignoring the stab of pain that assaulted his heart at the word 'lonely'. He knew they weren't lonely, per-say; they had their friends Casey, April, Leatherhead, and any others who would drift randomly in and out of their lives, but Raphael knew that they weren't normal, weren't human, and could never have the lives that the humans took for granted.

Raphael scowled. "We've been tellin' Leo for years that we don't need him to look after us. And Leo's the one who always bitches at us that 'we live in the shadows'; 'we can't be a part of their world'; 'our lives are dangerous'; blah, blah, blah. So you can't tell me that the crap he's been preaching about all these years finally just sunk into his _own_ brain."

"I think it's more like we took away his job, kicked him out, told him to have some fun -like we retired him or something- and he's never done anything else, and all of a sudden he's figured out that there is a big world out there that we can't be part of and now he has no idea what to do."

"So….Leo's...lost?" he asked, trying to ascertain whether or not he understood what his brother was saying.

Michelangelo gave a shrug as Donatello walked into the room, eyes scanning the entire room before coming to rest upon them.

"Leo in the shower?" their purple masked brother asked.

Raphael gave a small nod, wondering if their brother was looking for him.

"Good," Donatello said as he hurried over to them, pulling a sheaf of papers from behind his back and piquing Raphael's curiosity enough that he forgot to pretend not to care about Leonardo's odd behaviour.

"Whatchya got there, Genius?" Raphael asked, remembering at the last moment to put a growl into his voice.

"I think I know where Leo was for part of Halloween night," Donatello answered as he came to a halt in front of them.

"Really?" Michelangelo asked in surprise.

"Remember how he asked me if I knew what larping was?" he continued after they both nodded. "Well, I couldn't figure out where he would run into some larpers since they are generally fantasy based they tend to congregate..." Donatello's words trailed off at Raphael's peeved look. "He was at the New York Masque of the Courts Halloween Ball," Donatello hastily explained as he showed them a picture of a bunch of humans dressed up as various fantasy creatures.

Raphael snatched the picture from his brother's hands and looked at it more carefully as Donatello continued to talk. "I found the pictures of the event online. These are the people Leo must have run into, but it only runs until midnight, so I don't know where he would have gone after that."

Raphael heard his brother's voice rambling in the background as his heart sped up and his blood thundered in his veins. He had found his brother –mask-less- and standing beside a woman who sat upon a high backed silver throne. Leonardo's words about the Queen of the Fairies suddenly came back to him.

Raphael hadn't told Donatello or Michelangelo about Leonardo's strange words; mostly because Raphael wasn't quite sure that he had heard them correctly. But now that he looked at the picture in front of them, his brother's words suddenly gained more weight, and more meaning.

He studied the woman who Leonardo was looking at, not bothering to pose for the picture since it looked as if it was a group shot, everyone else smiling or snarling for the camera.

The Fairy Queen was all languid curves and seductive beauty; sitting upon a throne, face covered, identity hidden, but tempting all to wonder about her, increasing her mystery and allure.

"Are there more pictures, Donny?" Raphael suddenly asked, interrupting whatever Donatello had been saying.

"Yeah, but-" Donatello began, but Raphael waved his brother off and strode from the training room, intent on Donatello's lab and computer.

His brother's didn't follow, which he was thankful for, because then he would have to explain what the hell he was doing. He didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but he strongly suspected that what he thought had happened, was something Leonardo probably didn't want any of them to know about.

He sat down and thankfully Donatello had left his computer on the site that he had accessed, otherwise Raphael would have had to go back to the training room and drag Donatello in here to tell show him what to do to get to the website.

He scrolled through the page, reading about the founding of the event, past events and this year's event. Thankfully they had a list of certain 'key roles' like the 'villain' -Mandrake, King of the Unseelie-; the Queen- an older woman who was not the one who sat on the throne in the picture; and the princess/new Queen of the Seelie court. "Whatever the hell that is," he mumbled under his breath.

But the woman who was pictured as the Princess/Queen was not the woman who had sat on the throne that night. Marissa Lopez was a Latin beauty with dark hair an olive complexion and full, plump lips. The woman who had sat upon the silver throne beside Leonardo had alabaster skin, a strong jaw and kissable cupids bow lips that had been painted silver.

Raphael frowned wondering who the woman was, and if Leonardo even knew her identity. Not that he could blame his brother for being unable to pry his eyes from the woman on the throne. There was something almost otherworldly about her. She was a creature painted with blues and silver, but her hair was a wild tumult of coppers, golds and deep russets. She looked petite, but not wraithlike. She had curves that pulled at the fabric of her costume, covering her, but at the same time, inviting speculation and curiosity over just what was hidden beneath the dress as the flimsy material floated around her teasingly, offering only glimpses and promises of carnal sin.

There were more candid shots of the Fairy Queen, and Leonardo was in quite a few of them. Raphael studied a close up of the Queen's face and frowned thoughtfully, coming to a conclusion; one he had hoped he wouldn't.

Michelangelo was wrong; Leonardo wasn't _lost_, quite the opposite, he had _found_ something; something they could never have, or even dare to want.

Raphael could only assume that his brother was a little love-struck, and that was perhaps why he had been moping. Raphael knew there was nothing he could do for his brother, and that only time would be able to cure the malady that was afflicting him. Once his brother got over having met a woman he could never be with, who he probably didn't even know what she looked like or even what her real name was, he would be back to his overbearing, strict, and focused old self in no time.

Raphael printed off a close up of the 'Queen'. He briefly wondered if the woman really was a fairy, deciding to grace mere mortals with her presence for an evening before vanishing again to wherever fairies dwelled. With all he had seen in his short 25 years, he didn't discount this as being completely possible.

"Who are you, and what the hell did you do to my brother?" he wondered out loud before he closed the web-page, folded the picture and tucked it into his back pocket.

* * *

**Thoughts and opinions are always welcome:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A giant thank you to my lovely reviewers rinpup14, Diana Fay, SleepingSeeker and mela989898. You all keep me going!**

**As well a giant thank you especially to SleepingSeeker for all of your encouragement!**

**Hope you all enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Leonardo** had tried his best to stay away from the Brownstone located just off 81st in the upper west side, but for some reason, he couldn't. Christmas had come and gone; so had New Years Eve and he wasn't any closer to feeling like himself.

He stared at the cat statue sitting on his desk; taunting him with accusing eyes. He had glued the cat's head back onto its body, it having broken in such a way that he could barely tell that it had been in two pieces. The head had separated from the body along the line of the cat's ornate necklace.

Leonardo closed his eyes, shutting out the alluring memories associated with the cat. He had told himself that it was just a coincidence that he had made sure that they had patrolled the upper west side more than they normally would. He had then tried to convince himself that he wasn't following Catherine, but trying to figure out where and when he would be able to give her the statue back; since he had not intended to steal it in the first place.

He had no intention of keeping the cat and was going to put it in the trash, but had kept it instead, feeling guilty for not telling Catherine he had broken it, and then for stealing it. He argued with himself that he had to give it back, because it could have had sentimental or monetary value and it was the right thing to do, especially after he had been shown such hospitality.

That he hadn't actually found the 'perfect' time to give the statue back to her was something he tried not to think about. He also tried not to think about how many times he had sat on the rooftop opposite the Brownstone and watched Catherine and Elizabeth go about their daily lives. Elizabeth had apparently moved in with her sister; if her constant presence and the large amount of boxes that had been carried into the building were anything to go by.

He then had tried to placate his inner voice that was whispering to him in his head that he had developed an un-healthy obsession by telling it that he was just making sure that the two women were protected. He argued that he would look after anyone he considered an acquaintance of sorts in the same way. And he told his inner voice firmly that the two women needed his protection because they both had an apparent and blatant disregard for their own safety.

Catherine worked at the Museum of Natural history, as an art and exhibit restoration specialist. She helped to record and assist with the reconstruction and repair of the museum exhibits as well as the items within the collections that the general public didn't get to see.

She would walk to and from work every day, even when she worked late and it was dark, outside, walking her route alone. This infuriated and frustrated him beyond all reason. Catherine was Canadian and perhaps this is what made her slightly naive and overly trusting; it was also the only possible reason he could think of for her to completely ignore all common sense.

If Catherine were not bad enough, then there was Elizabeth. She worked from home as a contract graphic designer and part time at a comic book store. She also worked part time as an arts model, posing for art students, photographer's and the like. All of this was fine, but the woman rode her motorbike like a bat out of hell even though it was winter. She also had a bad habit of staying out late and coming home at all hours of the evening and sometimes well into the morning; usually in the company of men who Leonardo would consider to be less than desirable.

Though none of the men were ever invited inside, Leonardo still didn't trust them or their intentions. He became especially incensed when they accosted the wrong sister; bothering Catherine and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

Leonardo opened his eyes and glanced at his clock, listening to the soft sounds of the empty lair. It was 10:00 on a Friday night and they had all been invited to Casey and April's for a movie. Leonardo had stayed back, telling his family that he felt like spending the evening alone and meditating.

His brothers had been disappointed, and Raphael had given him a strange, searching look before giving a shrug. They had left over an hour ago and he had finally steeled himself enough to do what he should have done months ago.

He stood and snatched up the cat, shoving it in his pocket and striding from his room. He planned on giving the cat back, apologizing, and purging Catherine from his mind once and for all.

* * *

**Raphael** watched with keen, suspicious eyes as Leonardo left the lair. Raphael stood up, his legs cramped and toes having frozen long ago. He didn't believe for even a minute that Leonardo actually planned on spending the night meditating so he had given his excuses to Casey and April, saying that he was going to make sure Leonardo was okay. He had then planted himself outside of the garage entrance of the lair waiting patiently, fuming slightly and freezing his ass off.

He had almost given up to and was tempted to say _screw it_ and go to April and Casey's anyway, but the truth was he was too damn curious, and if he were honest with himself, worried. He had discovered that his older brother had begun sneaking out at night. Raphael had been tempted to confront his brother, after all, it was Leonardo who was the one always giving him shit for leaving the lair alone, and here Leonardo was doing the same damn thing; _Bastard_.

But Raphael had changed his mind and followed him instead which had only left him even more confused. As far as he could tell Leonardo was tracing a path between the Museum of Natural History and eighty first street. Raphael had then found out that his brother was sneaking out almost every night tracing the same path back and forth and watching a row of Brownstones. Raphael hadn't been able to get any closer to find out what was so damn interesting about the street; fearing his brother would notice that he was following him and so had kept his distance.

But tonight Leonardo had bailed on movie night, and this had aroused Raphael's suspicion. Raphael strongly believed that his brother was up to something different tonight, and he was determined to find out exactly what was going on.

Raphael suspected that the Fairy Queen lay at the center of the mystery and he wondered if his brother actually knew her identity and where she lived, and if so, he was curious to know if the woman knew that she had picked up an in-human stalker.

He had felt his worry turning to irritation when he had found his brother sneaking out of the lair. He had given his normally stringent and rational brother time to get over whatever the hell was wrong with him, but now he was determined to snap his brother out of it, even if he had to use his fist and knock some sense into him to do it.

Raphael easily followed his brother, who normally would have detected his presence, but lately had been so distracted, that he had not feared being discovered. And even if Leonardo did notice and confront him, it wasn't as if Raphael didn't have enough of his own ammunition to fire back at his brother if he even dared to yell at him for following him.

Raphael wasn't surprised that his brother headed straight for the upper west side. If Leonardo thought they wouldn't notice that he and his brothers seemed to be patrolling this area more than usual, Leonardo was mistaken; they had noticed. Of course Raphael was the only one who had his suspicions as to why they were focusing a undue amount of attention on the area. He had not informed his two younger siblings of his suspicions regarding Halloween night and his belief that their older brother had become more than a little interested in a human woman.

That was a particular and delicious tidbit of information that he intended to savour and use for his own purposes later; which probably included but not limited to ripping a strip off of Leonardo for being such an idiot.

Raphael and his brothers had accepted the fact long ago that a relationship with a human woman was not only impossible, but too damn dangerous. It didn't matter that their lives had become less dangerous over the past few years, the fact remained that they were freaks of nature and no woman would even look upon them as anything else. And even if they did, they would only be regarded as friends, nothing more.

He circled around his brother coming up the other side of the street than where his brother usually sat. But this time Leonardo didn't sit upon the rooftop like he normally did. Bundled up in a hat, scarf, gloves winter jacket and jeans, his brother made his way down to the street and darted across, making his way up a set of steps and placing something on the doorstep, before ringing the doorbell and quickly leaving.

Raphael watched his brother do this and knew that he had only a matter of moments before whoever was in the house opened the door. Taking one last glance around and making sure his brother had left and not stayed to see the person answer the door, he darted down to street level and ran up the slightly slippery stone steps.

He bent over, picking up the little stone cat and straightened, studying it in confusion, and frowning down at it. It was charcoal grey, made of something heavy, possibly stone or something else, and wore a golden hoop earring in each ear as well as a beaded necklace. He turned it over in his hand and noticed that it had been broken and glued back together.

_Lamest gift ever, and it's broken_, he thought to himself. There was the rumbling of a motorcycle engine that recalled him to the fact that the doorbell had been rung, and the door in front of him was going to be opened at any moment.

The heavy wooden door flew open, "Elizabeth I-" a woman's voice began before she collided with him.

She was small -probably weighted nothing- and under normal circumstances wouldn't have budged him from his spot, but the stoop was icy and he felt his boots slip before he found himself falling backwards. His arms spun as he saw his life flash before his eyes, his body crumpled below on the sidewalk, neck broken on the stone steps. The irony of having survived so many attacks and life threatening situations only to die in such a stupid way not completely lost upon him.

His flailing arms caught upon something solid and he held on, trying desperately to stop his backwards trajectory. Unfortunately he had grabbed onto the woman who had barreled into him, and she was no more anchored to the stoop than he was. She was also much lighter that he was and was unable to stop their motion as he pulled her down with him. She let out a yelp of fear that was quickly silenced as his carapace hit the stone step hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs, sliding the rest of the way down before they landed in a tangled pile on the sidewalk.

Raphael tried to take a breath and couldn't. His lungs were still rebelling against him, and there was a body laying on top of him that further aggravated his condition. The fact that he was still alive gave him no comfort, and only seemed to exacerbate the pain that was shooting red sparks of agony across his chest, through his head and over his legs.

He opened his eyes about to throw the woman off of him. He looked up at an alabaster face surrounded by a waterfall of golden, copper and russet curls. Dark moss green eyes were wide with shock, while kissable pink cupid's bow lips parted in surprise.

_The Queen of the Fairies_ he thought numbly to himself. If his breath hadn't already been knocked from his lungs, it would have been stolen away by her breathtaking beauty.

She blinked down at him, and Raphael braced himself for the scream that would shatter his ear drums. She was close enough to see him -even though he was wearing a hoodie and a winter jacket with a scarf and a hat- he knew she would be able to see his face clearly and know he wasn't human.

She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by a smooth languid voice saying, "Kitty, if you are going to bring home a guy to have sex with, at least wait to do it in your own bedroom. The rest of us and this street don't need to see your PDA's."

'Kitty' looked up at the speaker aghast, and Raphael craned his neck to see who the second woman was. He looked at the pale woman with dark black eyeliner, dark punky hair, ruby red lips curved into a mocking smile, and a motorcycle resting on her hip.

"I wasn't-" 'Kitty' began but Raphael cut off the woman's offended words.

"Get off," he snarled, giving the woman a chance to get off him before he threw her off of him.

"No." She turned her luminous green eyes back to him. "You stole Bastet, and...you aren't Leonardo," she finished in confusion.

Raphael didn't reply, moving so that he dumped her onto the sidewalk. He glared down at the woman who quickly scrambled to her feet.

Raphael didn't let his shock at her actually knowing his brother cross his face, instead he growled, "No shit, Sherlock," and began to brush the faint traces of snow from his clothing. He refused to admit that he was being surly because he had been momentarily stunned by her; a flash of heat burning through his entire body at the very brief contact of her warm curvaceous body pressed against his own. He took a breath before looking back at her again. "What the hell were you doing, you nearly killed me?!" he snapped as he rounded on her.

Her mouth fell open at his attack before she snapped it shut. "Me?! You have 24/7 body armour!" She reached out and knocked on his plastron, buried as it was beneath several layers of clothing he swore he could still feel the heat of her hand. She continued. "You were the one who almost killed me by dragging me down with you. And you were the one lurking at _my_ front door!"

"I wasn't lurking!" he shot back defensively even though that was exactly what he had been doing.

"I thought you were my sister, I was trying to catch her before she dragged snow into the foyer," she ground out angrily. "And then-" her words were silenced by a very familiar, very firm and strict voice that almost had Raphael's spine stiffening in response...almost.

"Raphael!"

Raphael looked over his shoulder and felt a moment of trepidation as if he had been caught in the act of doing something wrong, only this time he wasn't. Leonardo was at fault and Raphael fully intended to repay his big brother for all of the lectures he had ever given to Raphael about 'staying hidden', 'not going out alone', and 'staying out of trouble'.

Unfortunately Raphael didn't get to vent because his brother picked something up from the ground. He recognized the cat and realized that he must have dropped it when he had fallen. The cat was now in three pieces, the head having broken off again, and now one of the ears had broken off as well.

"I'm sorry I broke your statue, Catherine. I did not mean to and I had not meant to take it either." Leonardo bowed and offered her the remains of the statue. "Please accept my apologies."

Raphael ground his teeth together as his brother took all the blame for breaking the cat, not even mentioning that he had repaired it, and that Raphael had broken it again. He crossed his arms angrily over his chest.

Catherine took the cat and looked at Leonardo searchingly. She gave a nod of acceptance. "It's, okay."

"Are you two coming in or not, because if you aren't I'm going inside." The other woman said with impatience, as if it was every day that two mutant turtles congregated on her front sidewalk.

"No," Leonardo said with a shake of his head. "We-"

"Screw that, I'm goin' in," Raphael snarled, shrugging off his brother's hand which had clamped down on his shoulder. "I've been freezing my ass off tailing you around. I'm getting warm and findin' out why the hell you have been stalking these two chicks."

He started up the steps his mouth curling into a faintly malicious smile as he looked back over his shoulder at his brother, his eyes sliding over the two women who stood together, their appearances different yet exactly the same. He returned his gaze to his brother's furious face. "I mean, I get it, they're hot, and they're twins, so what were you thinking...threesome maybe?" he asked with a lascivious smile his focus upon his brother's face which darkened with embarrassment.

A woman snorted, her voice a seductive purr, "Sweetheart, he couldn't handle one of us, let alone both of us, and neither could you."

Raphael glanced at the two women, felt his brain completely shut down, and his legs stop functioning properly. At least, that's what he assumed happened because for the second time that night he lost his footing, slipped and felt himself crashing forward onto the steps before rolling to the bottom where he lay on his carapace; stunned.

One woman and then the next stepped over his prone body their hips swaying together arms around each other's waists as they mumbled something about 'men' and 'perverts'.

Raphael closed his eyes as he tried and failed to block out the image of the two sisters standing together, the one sister's head leaning on her sister's shoulder, her face filled with raw, animal seduction, while the other woman, Catherine, had her one hand buried in her sister's short hair, a mischievous smile pulling at her her lips, eyes filled with lust and the promise of carnal sin.

"Those two should come with warning labels,"Raphael grumbled in a low and quiet voice. "Exposure may cause seizures, heart attack, stroke and problems with blood flow."

He opened his eyes and stared at the night sky a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. Having two women looking at him as if he was something more than just a mistake of nature combined with Leonardo's absolute look of horrified mortification was totally worth whatever punishment his older brother was no doubt cooking up right now.

He rolled over and got to his feet, his brother's face a thundercloud of furious anger.

Raphael only gave his older brother a cocky grin and turned making his way back up the steps without saying another word.

* * *

eyes Leonardo closed his

**Leonardo** closed his eyes, the cool air hitting him in the face, and it felt good. He had been feeling uncomfortable, embarrassed, and angry; and he was doing his best to keep his frayed temper under control.

"So, Fearless, you were plannin' on keepin those two all to yourself, huh?" his brother mused archly as they walked home after having spent the last couple of hours with the two women.

Leonardo ground his teeth together at his brother's words, still furious that his brother had been following him, broken the cat (again), told the two women that he had been following them, and to add insult to injury, had added the comment about a threesome and his brother's subsequent trips down the stairs had done little to assuage his fury.

"I wasn't planning on seeing either of them ever again," he ground out through clenched teeth. "And if you hadn't-"

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, whatever." Raphael angrily stormed ahead leaving Leonardo in his wake.

Leonardo clenched his fists together in irritation. He understood his brother's anger; understood it because he himself had been resisting the siren call of the Brownstone and the temptation that lay within it for months now.

It felt good to be accepted for who and what he was and that acceptance was something so rare that the need to cling to it had been overwhelming. But resist he had, for two long months until he was suddenly thrust back into their sphere; causing the need, and want for companionship, and for something more to rise up again and burn him alive from the desire for it.

And no matter how hard he tried to stamp down on the feelings, they had overwhelmed him and he had placed one foot in front of the other, making his way into the Brownstone and all of the possibilities it had offered.

Embarrassment and the warmth of the building had made him feel slightly overwhelmed. He had hastily explained that he wasn't 'stalking' them and that he had wanted to return he cat, but was finding it hard to gather the courage to do so. His excuses had tapered off as he looked around the foyer, now completely renovated and breathtaking it it's grandeur.

Dark wood panelling, darkly pained walls, brass fixtures, and stained glass decorated the room. He had complimented Catherine on the renovations and she had informed him that she was working on the upper floor and was welcome to go and look at what had changed since the last time he had been there.

He had agreed and Catherine had outlined her plans for the upper two floors, and had to admit that he had enjoyed himself for the rest of the evening, even though he had still been angry with his brother.

As they left Leonardo had been filled with the gut wrenching disappointment of knowing that he would never see either sister again because he shouldn't want to..

But he wanted to; so badly the pain was nearly physical.

He accepted and had been sanguine about the fact that they would never be with anyone. But maybe he had born this fact easily because he had never thought that there would be any woman out there who would ever look upon him as anything other than as a monster. Of course he could be jumping to conclusions and falsely believing that either woman would look at him as more than just a possible friend. After all, Catherine and Elizabeth were incredibly beautiful and it amazed him that neither woman was attached. Elizabeth was 'dating' but was not serious about anyone, and had not been on a date with any guy more than once in a while. Catherine on the other hand seemed to have no interest in throwing herself into the dating scene, apparently having 'too much on her plate at the moment' to bother.

Walking into the lair he had expected both Donatello and Michelangelo to have crashed at April and Casey's for the night. Instead he found his other two siblings up and both brimming with excitement and curiosity.

"I want to meet them too," Michelangelo said vibrating with anticipation.

"No," Leonardo stated firmly.

Michelangelo's face fell and pulled into lines of abused and hurt feelings. "Why do you and Raph get all the fun?"

"Mikey, it was just an accident, it isn't like we can see them again," he explained patiently, his heart giving him a twinge of regret through him.

"Why not?" Michelangelo crossed his arms over her chest in a defiant pout.

Leonardo sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Because, Mikey, our lives are dangerous." He said the words he had said many times over, and didn't even believe them himself. "We have a duty to this city, we can't have any-"

"Friends?" Michelangelo interrupted.

"We have friends, Mikey," Leonardo pointed out.

Leonardo looked to Donatello to help back him up in his assessment.

"Mikey's right, Leo," Donatello said thoughtfully.

"Words I never thought I would ever hear." Raphael sarcastically drawled as he entered the room.

Leonardo shot a deadly glare at his hot-headed younger brother, which Raphael ignored, saluting him with a beer as he took a swig, a smug smile crossing his features.

Donatello continued. "I mean, we have a truce with Karai, and by extension the Purple Dragons. Bishop and Baxter Stockman haven't been heard from in years and they stopped trying to dissect and destroy us even before they disappeared. Our lives aren't dangerous anymore except for the occasional gang skirmish or basic crime that generally plagues a city this size," he pointed out reasonably. "So if these women are okay with what we are, then I don't see the problem with treating them like we would Casey and April."

_The only problem being I don't want to date Casey and April_, he thought to himself bitterly, but knowing when he had been beaten.

"Fine, you're right, Donny," he acceded as graciously as he was able to.

A grin spread across Michelangelo's face in triumph. "When do we get to meet them? What are they like? Tell me more, do they like horror movies?" Michelangelo pelted him with rapid fire questions and Leonardo tried to answer them the best as he could, praying that the women would forgive him for unceremoniously dropping their baby brother into their laps.

Raphael pulled Leonardo aside when Michelangelo began talking enthusiastically with Donatello, making plans for when they would meet the two women.

He glared at his red masked brother. "You did this on purpose," he ground out with irritation.

"So?" he asked unconcerned. "You needed to take your head outta your ass."

Leonardo's eyes narrowed further. "You-"

"And I call dibs on Elizabeth," Raphael interrupted.

Leonardo's mouth fell open his line of thought and anger completely sidetracked by his brother's words. "W-what?!"

"Hey, I'm not sayin' that they'd say yes, or are even interested, maybe they just want to be friends, whatever, but I'm just throwing it out there just in case. Not that I think you'd be interested in Elizabeth because -you know- she's the fun one, and you don't know the meaning of the word."

"Fun?" he asked in stunned accents. "That woman is _Trouble_."

"I know." Raphael grinned widely. "Night, Leo," Raphael said with a wave of his hand.

* * *

**Hehe. thoughts and opinions are always welcome:) Hope you enjoyed:)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Greetings all! **

**I hope everyone has enjoyed this fic so far! And now is where things are going to get interesting;) I hope you all enjoy!**

**I would also like to send out love and thanks to all of my reviewers Dondena, Kimmie98, mela989898, SleepingSeeker and Loving Leo. Thank you for your wonderful words of encouragement!**

* * *

Chapter 5

**Catherine** felt her lips widen into a fake smile as she agreed to work later than she had planned; which was the absolute worst possible timing…Ever.

Her mind spun furiously as she thought of all of the possible scenarios and excuses she could use, and found that she couldn't use any of them. For one she was a horrible liar, her face always burning with embarrassment and giving her away; for two, her co-worker had called in sick and the painting she was restoring needed to be put out on display tomorrow, and she was the only one who had the necessary skills to complete the task.

Her boss thanked her profusely as she left and Catherine felt and a sick ball of lead fill her stomach as disappointment coursed through her. She pulled out her cell phone and called her sister.

"Hey El," she said as her sister answered the phone. "Listen, I have to work late tonight."

"No prob, I wasn't going to be home anyway," Elizabeth said offhandedly.

Catherine resisted asking her sister where she was going and who she was going out with, but for once she was distracted enough by her own problems that she focused on herself instead of trying to pry into her sister's private life and risk being yelled at.

"But…I was supposed to go out with Leonardo tonight."

"Really?" her sister asked in surprise, her attention seemingly caught. "Leo actually asked you out on a date?" She sounded absolutely incredulous. "I thought you were going to have to ask _him_ out. You two have been doing that stupid little dance for like…four months now, where it's obvious he likes you and you like him…" her voice trailed off suggestively.

Leonardo and his three brothers would occasionally -though not necessarily all at the same time- visit the Brownstone. It had been four months since the incident on the step when they had met Raphael, and after that, Michelangelo and Donatello. But the turtles never seemed to stay long -no matter how much Michelangelo complained, or how loudly Raphael growled- Leonardo always pulled them away. And even though she and Leonardo enjoyed each other's company, and were obviously attracted to each other, it was like he had some reason for not moving things forward. But yesterday he had actually called her up and invited her out. She had wanted to ask him if it was a date, but the words had caught in her throat. She hadn't wanted to push him. He seemed to be fighting some sort of inner struggle and she wanted him to be okay with his decision. She didn't want to get her heart broken because she ended up falling hard for him and then have him decide that he didn't want to date a human.

But he had asked her to go somewhere with him, just the two of them, and that was a step in the right direction.

And now she had to work late.

"Well...it's not actually a date," she began slowly. "He invited me out-"

"Just the two of you?" her sister interrupted.

"Yes, and-"

"Then it's a date," her sister stated firmly.

"El-"

"Trust me."

"You and Raphael hang out all the time, are you two dating?" she asked, trying to keep the hint of bitterness out of her voice at the fact that her sister had seen Raphael more than she had seen Leonardo; mostly because Raphael would sneak out of the lair and pop by. Which was torture for her, and the jerk was lucky she hadn't ratted him out for all the grief he gave her.

"Nope," her sister said, no doubt shaking her head back and forth. "You're always around. Raph's never asked me to go anywhere with him alone because Raph's a chicken shit." Her sister's voice contained a hint of amusement, probably thinking about how Raphael would pitch an absolute fit if he ever heard himself referred to as a 'chicken shit'. "Twenty bucks says that somehow Raph goaded Leo into asking you out, if not exactly on a date, then at least as something close to resembling a date. He can be a little thick sometimes but he isn't as stupid as he pretends to be. He's sending in the guinea pig to see what happens, and if Leo managed to get you to agree to go out on a sort of date and things go well, Raph will probably be like 'Hey, Babe, you and me, whadya think?'

Catherine knew she should laugh and smile at her sister's humour, because her sister's words were completely true, but Raphael rubbed her completely the wrong way and being constantly forced into his company was like nails on a chalkboard for her. "That's because he's an ass. I mean…I know you like him, you seem to go for that-"

"Hey!" her sister said offended.

"Name me one guy you've dated that wasn't a total and complete ass," she prompted.

"That's beside the point," Elizabeth grumbled.

"I just want you to be happy and you always go for the bad boys, and bad boys are trouble."

"True, and Raph is _trouble_," her sister agreed with a purr in her voice.

"You don't have to say it like it's a good thing," she ground out peevishly. "I mean, Leonardo has two _other _brothers, Michelangelo and Donatello, and they are both sweethearts."

Elizabeth sighed a long suffering lament of having listened to one too many discussions about her horrible taste in men.

"Why are we talking about my love life, when we should be talking about yours?" Elizabeth easily changed the subject, and as much as Catherine would have liked to continue their current discussion, she allowed herself to be led onto the topic of her date again.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted.

"You reschedule. Leo will understand. You had to work late, it's not like you're trying to bail."

"Wait…do you think he'll think that I'm trying to bail?"

"Well…"

She pulled her phone away from her ear and stared at it as a call came in.

"Just a sec." She put her sister on hold and answered the call.

Leonardo's smooth, gentle voice flowed into her ear and she felt herself smiling. "Hey," she said, glad to hear his voice.

"So I'll pick you up in an hour?" His voice sounded nervous and slightly unsure as if he was expecting her to laugh at him and tell him that she had changed her mind.

"I..." she paused biting her lip nervously. "The thing is-" The excuse of 'I have to work late' was right up there with 'I'm really busy right now' and 'I just remembered that I had something else planned'. She might as well tell him that she had to go and 'wash her hair'.

"I understand," Leonardo cut off her stumbling words, his voice filled with hurt, disappointment and a hint of anger.

"I'd rather it be sooner," she blurted out, which was the absolute truth. She wanted to see him right now, and this was the point where she should have told him that she needed to work late, and that they would have to reschedule, but then he chuckled with amusement and relief which contained such a vulnerable tone, that the words dried up on her tongue and she could only reply 'okay' when he told her that he would pick her up in an hour.

She swallowed shaking her head. She had to tell him the truth, but knew that she couldn't because that ship had already sailed, and all she could do now was watch the stern as it sailed out to sea.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead up against the wall, mentally envisioning her hitting her head upon the cool surface a few times.

"I will see you then," Leonardo said with what was no doubt a smile that made his eyes crinkle in the corners.

"Okay," she said as she hung up with him and physically hit her forehead upon the wall more than a few times, just for good measure; because she obviously needed it.

She wondered briefly if she could manage to get the painting done and get home within the hour and knew it couldn't be done.

She began seriously mulling over asking her sister to finish the painting, and knew the director of the museum would have no problem with this. Her sister had been allowed to help her out on other projects as her sister was a talented artist in her own right. Except in this case, her sister wouldn't be able to help her because she tended to be useless with oil paints. She could use acrylics passably, but excelled more in the areas of pen and ink, markers and computer programs.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, blocking out her sister's insistent voice as she tried to get her attention. Catherine could admit to herself that she had made a huge mistake, and the only thing she could do was call Leonardo back and explain to him what had happened, hope that he would forgive her, and that they would be able to reschedule. She explained the situation to her sister.

"I'll do it," her sister said after a moment's pause.

Catherine sighed. "El, you can't paint in oil-"

"No, I mean I'll go on your not-date with Leo."

Catherine frowned in confusion. "How does that help me? You just told me it's basically a date and if I send you instead-"

"No." Elizabeth interrupted impatiently. "I mean, I will go on your date _as _you. God knows _I_ don't want to date him."

"What?!" Catherine cried out incredulously.

"And you should thank me, not yell in my ear. After all, I can't think of anything more boring than spending a night with him, but I'll do it to bail you out, and you will so owe me."

"For one," Catherine huffed, "Leonardo isn't boring; for two I have bailed you out more than enough times that _you_ still owe _me_; and thirdly, are you insane?!"

"No, I am offering you a perfectly logical option."

"No." Catherine shook her head.

"Why not?" her sister questioned. "You said it wasn't a date, so what's the big deal, just two friends, hanging out."

"You are the one who just told me it was a date," she shot back.

"And you told me it wasn't, so let's go with your assumption, you know Leo better than I do."

"El, I can't just send you in my place. It's a horrible idea, one we never even did as kids."

"I wanted to, you were the one who wouldn't," Elizabeth pouted. "We were in different classes it would have been so much fun."

"The only reason you wanted to do that was because you wanted me to write your science test for you because you didn't' study for it," she growled back.

"I figured that you had a better chance of acing the test than me, but that's beside the point. The point is that you need to be in two places at once and you have a sister who is your exact double who can fill in for you."

"No. I will just call Leonardo up and-"

"Destroy him," Elizabeth interjected viciously.

Catherine felt herself visibly flinch.

Sensing weakness Elizabeth went in for the kill. "It's taken this long to sorta ask you out on a date, and you said you _would_ be there. And if you call him up _now_, he's going to think you bailed and he is _never_ going to ever ask you out again, _ever_. In fact you may never see him again."

Catherine felt her heart constrict and her throat tighten. Even though she knew her sister was playing on her fears, she couldn't argue with her sister's logic. Unwanted panic and fear pickled her skin, dancing along it as sick dread filled her stomach.

She swallowed, grasping at any and all straws that would allow her to avoid the temptation of her sister's offer. "We aren't five anymore, and we don't even look alike."

"I'll wear a hat, it's still cool enough and lord knows you are cold all the time," Elizabeth pointed out.

"What if it's indoors?"

"Where is he going to take you indoors? To the lair? ALL of his brother's will be there. And I will wear a nice hat, so I can keep it on and I will tuck up my hair."

"We don't even talk the same and you can't keep your potty mouth shut," she shot back.

Elizabeth snorted. "I can pretend to be you, don't worry. I've done it before, I can do it again."

"You...What do you mean you've done it before?" she asked her attention on the current subject briefly derailed.

"Not important," she swiftly answered. "The important thing is that Leo won't know it isn't you. I go on the not-date, tell you all the details when I get home, and you don't crush his fragile ego and heart into tiny itty-bitty bits."

Catherine struggled, her conscience warring with itself. Half of it argued that _it was a horrible, awful, idea_. And it was, she knew it was because it was deceptive, ridiculous, and just plain wrong. _On the other hand_, the other half of her conscience argued, she had a choice between assuaging her own conscience and telling Leonardo the truth, risk hurting him to the point where he would never ask any woman out ever again and –and this was the most poignant argument the devil on her shoulder gave- she would lose Leonardo forever; before they had even had a chance to begin anything. And this thought alone caused a lance of pain directly in the region of her heart which was coupled with a panic filled dread that raced across her skin.

To her horror she opened her mouth and instead of telling her sister that under no circumstances would she ever let her sister pretend to be her and go out on a not-date with Leonardo, she found herself saying instead, "Okay."

* * *

**Elizabeth's** mouth fell open in shock. "Really?" she asked completely dumbfounded. She had actually just been joking. She hadn't actually thought her sister would ever go for the idea because it was a horrible one and one that Catherine's high morals would never let her contemplate.

Elizabeth found her sister's situation slightly amusing and although she had felt bad for her sister, it was no one's fault but her own. And so she had offered up the scheme on the premise that her sister would NEVER agree to it. Catherine couldn't lie and tended to crumple like a house of cards if any deception were involved.

But she had agreed, which put Elizabeth in the unenviable position of telling her sister she was 'just kidding'. And normally she wouldn't have any problem telling her sister that she was pulling her leg. She had dealt many times with her sister's frigid anger and silent treatment, and she could take another round. Except...her sister had been desperate enough to actually agree with the ludicrous idea, which meant that her sister liked Leonardo enough that the thought of hurting and losing him forever had made her normally logical, level-headed sister reckless.

Suggesting a switch was something Elizabeth would totally do, and would normally think of as being amusing and fun, but deceiving someone she actually knew and considered an acquaintance bordering on a friend was something even she balked at. She could admit to herself that she had a tendency to speak her mind, not take any crap, and generally come off as abrasive and overbearing, but she wasn't morally bankrupt.

"If you think you can do it, then...what choice do I have?" Catherine asked in a despondent voice that pulled on her sisterly heart strings.

Elizabeth paused for a moment. "Okay then," she affirmed. She thought furiously as she and her sister worked out the minor details, such as trading phones and switching vehicles since Catherine had taken hers to work that day because she had been transporting materials, and it would look strange if it was not parked outside the Brownstone, but Elizabeth's motorcycle was.

Suddenly Catherine asked, "What about Raphael?"

His name sent a small flutter of interest mixed with reservation through her. The problem was that she did like Raphael. She enjoyed his company, they had fun together, and for some reason, he seemed to get under Catherine's skin. As Elizabeth had been the sole person ever to be able to ruffle her sister's unflappable and perfect feathers, she felt a certain kinship towards him. Was it enough to date him? She wasn't so sure.

Catherine was a serial boyfriend-ist (Elizabeth coined the term), which meant that her sister didn't do casual _anything._ When she started dating someone, she was in it for the long haul, and most of the few relationships her sister had been in had been ones that had lasted _years._

Elizabeth on the other had liked dipping her toes in a lot of different pools. It wasn't so much that she was unfaithful –she had never strayed when in a serious relationship- but none of her relationships had ever lasted because she felt too smothered, bored or if she was truthful with herself, scared. She was terrified of a relationship becoming serious because that meant she was open to being hurt, and she had experienced the body numbing pain heartbreak could inflict, and she had sworn she was never going to let herself be hurt like that again.

She liked to think of herself like Scarlet O'Hara shouting her vows out to the world, but with fouler language and possibly a few lewd body gestures thrown in for good measure.

Of course this didn't mean that she wasn't open to the possibility of finding love, lord knew she didn't want to end up in her 40's, alone except for her twenty cats, and being referred to as the 'Crazy Cat Lady'.

But she didn't feel as though she was ready for anything serious right now. She was having a good time, enjoying the dating game -or not enjoying it currently since she hadn't been on a date in nearly two months. This meant that she would be willing to hook up with Raphael. The fact that he was a mutant turtle intrigued her rather than repulsed her. And since she hadn't had any luck with human men, dating an inhuman one seemed like a brilliant solution. Unfortunately Raphael was –believe it or not- a serious relationship kind of guy.

He was a cocky, self-indulgent kind of guy who had enough confidence and the raw kind of dangerous bad boy allure that he would have no problem making his way through several women and several different beds –possibly on the same night and at the same time. But –and this was the catch- Raphael wasn't human, didn't have access to any women and had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide because of this very fact.

Which meant Raphael wasn't looking for casual –a fact he would not doubt deny until he was blue in the face- but rather for a deeper, more meaningful relationship that Elizabeth wasn't sure she was ready for.

And she explained this to her sister. And although her sister had mentioned Michelangelo and Donatello earlier, they fell into the same category as Raphael and Leonardo which Elizabeth filed under 'serious boyfriend material'. And although she enjoyed the company of the two younger Hamato siblings, she was not interested in them in _that_ particular way.

Catherine seemed dubious about her assertions that she wasn't quite ready for whatever Raphael was offering and Elizabeth could almost hear the relief in her voice. Elizabeth could admit that Raphael pushed some boundaries and some buttons. He tended to come across as an ass because he purposefully tried to get under everyone's skin and because he said everything with a cocky surety that could be grating to some people. But Elizabeth detected a hint of vulnerability, as if he used his personality as a shield to protect himself and she was sure her sister would have seen this too if they hadn't developed an almost strange sort of animosity towards each other.

She finally told her sister to get back to work, and to let her handle everything. A small amount of trepidation rose within her at what she was doing, because it _was_ stupid, and it _was _wrong, but she had committed herself so she was determined not to screw things up.

Her phone rang again and she let out an irritated huff, thinking her sister was calling back again. But then she saw that it was Raphael. She paused for a minute before answering.

"Hey, Babe, you busy tonight?" he asked , no perfunctory pleasantries, just straight to business.

"Yes," she flat out told him.

"Uh..." he didn't seem to know what to say.

Elizabeth smiled, amused at his sudden confused silence. She could imagine that he was debating with himself between demanding to know what she was doing, or taking the more polite route and accepting her answer.

Deciding to take pity on him she answered, "I have to cover for my sister tonight. She has to work late and I promised that I would help her out, since she and Leo are going out or something tonight." _There complete and total truth_, she thought, Catherine would be proud.

"How long you gonna be?"

"I have no idea," she answered truthfully again. "I'll be done when I'm done." And having Raphael know where she was supposed to be was a great alibi.

"Okay, maybe some other time," he grumbled, sounding disappointed.

Now she felt bad. She grimaced, but there was nothing she could do. So she made a noise that could be an affirmative or a negative and hung up the phone. _You aren't interested in anything serious and you are trying to keep him from getting his hopes up._ She told herself firmly. She wasn't completely writing Raphael off, she was just writing him off right now.

She shoved Raphael from her mind, getting ready to impersonate Catherine for her not-date with Leonardo, whose only redeeming and interesting quality was the fact that he wasn't human.

She ran to the bathroom, tore through her sister's closet and picked something tolerable to wear which ended up being jeans and a t-shirt with a nice pink, _ugh,_-sweater. She then ran to the bathroom and pulled out a makeup wipe so that she could drag it across her eyes, ridding herself of the heavy black eyeliner she usually wore, as well as the deep red lipstick. Once her face was clean she applied the sparse amount of make-up that her sister normally wore, and felt almost naked. She wrinkled her nose a little and left the bathroom, taking one more look at her face before running down the stairs to the front closet, where her sister stored all of her hats. Elizabeth swore Catherine had at least 50 of them.

She picked what looked like a 30's style that reminded her of a vaguely of a bonnet. It was a dark grey with a tastefully done pink flower on the left side. She grabbed the hat, snagged her leathers for her sister and ran out the door, needing to switch vehicles and coats before Leonardo came to pick her up.

* * *

**If anyone is wondering 'who would do that?!" I actually got my inspiration for this chapter from a show on twins where two twins actually did this. One twin went on a first date with a woman because the twin whose date it was supposed to be was unable to make it. **

**And you all know me well enough to know that I can't make it easy for our boys;)**

**Reviews and opinions are always welcome :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again all!**

**Just want to put in because I think I forgot, I don't own TMNT sadly...very, very sadly *sniff***

**Anyway, just wanting to thank my lovely reviewers RaphaelRules, Diana Fay, rinpup14, WolfAssasin369, Kimmie98, and Sleeping Seeker for your lovely reviews and encouragement, you guys are super awesome!**

**So here is a new chapter, please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6

**Raphael** hung up with Elizabeth, his heart sinking slightly in disappointment. He knew Elizabeth wasn't actually rejecting his offer, but still, it hurt none the less, and Elizabeth's non-committal response was not very promising either.

He paced around the lair until his older brother left. He had thought about ripping a strip off of Leonardo because it was technically his brother's fault that Elizabeth was busy tonight, but had changed his mind. He figured that it was better that his brother was gone, because then he could get out of the lair, go grab Casey, and if he was lucky, he could beat the crap out of some low life scum to make himself feel better and take the edge of his frustration.

He had wanted to further his relationship with Elizabeth, but knew he wouldn't be able to until Leonardo got his head out of his ass and admitted his feelings for Catherine. Raphael already got enough shit from his older brother about everything from not spending enough time practicing his katas and not cleaning his room, to staying out too late and taking too many risks. The last thing he needed was to have Leonardo riding his ass about dating a human.

Of course after four months Raphael was ready to tear someone or something limb from limb. He had thought that his stubborn brother would have broken down and asked Catherine out sooner, but Leonardo had remained firm. He hadn't wanted to drag a human into the mess that their lives were, and Raphael could admit to himself that he got it -he understood his brother's reasoning- but as far as Raphael was concerned Providence or Fate or some other quirk of something or whatever had given them a chance, and his brother was wasting it.

And so Raphael had resorted to deception to light a fire under his brother's ass. Two weeks ago he had told his brother that Elizabeth had told him that there had been a guy that Catherine seemed to be hanging around with, and although Leonardo hadn't actually managed to catch sight of this mystery guy, and had told Raphael point blank that it was better that way, his brother had been a bear for the past two weeks. This prompted Michelangelo to tell Leonardo to just get over himself and his stupid idea of honour and just ask Catherine out already before they all mutinied, tied him up and dropped him on Catherine's doorstep with a beautiful bow stuck to his head. Leonardo hadn't taken this threat seriously until Michelangelo had -in a fit of unusual pique- ambushed Leonardo with a roll of duct tape and some ribbon. Leonardo had managed to avoid being trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, but had realized that his brother's threat had been very valid. It had still taken Leonardo a few more days to gather up enough courage to ask the elder sister out, and then it was only a small concession because he refused to admit it was a date, even though it was.

Raphael blew out a frustrated breath and passed the garage for what had to be the twentieth time. Looking over at his bike he stomped towards it. He needed a ride. _Maybe Casey will go with me,_ he thought to himself feeling angry, frustrated and filled with gloom, which only made him angrier.

* * *

**Leonardo** glanced over at Catherine, unsure if she was actually enjoying herself or not. He tended to find her hard to read. Her sister was easier because she would very bluntly speak her mind. If Elizabeth didn't like something, she would let you know; but Catherine was much quieter and more polite. She would let you know if she didn't agree with something, or had a difference of opinion, and she would fight for it, but Catherine's emotions never played out upon her face. She smiled often and laughed, but he could never figure out what she was thinking at any given time. He hoped that perhaps if they spent some more time together he would be able to understand what went on inside her head, and then maybe he would be able to get her out of his.

This brought him back to the woman watching the stage below them. They were currently perched upon a catwalk high above the opera that was going on below. They had a view of the stage as well as what was going on behind the curtain. Leonardo found it interesting, and knew that Catherine enjoyed plays and the ballet, but the opera house they were currently crouched in was easily accessible for him, so he had chosen it because he hoped she would enjoy it. However looking on it now, he could see the apparent flaw in his logic: it was too loud to hold a conversation at the moment, and he would have to wait until the opera was over to find out what she thought about it.

Increasing his apprehension was the fact that he was unable to see Catherine's face; shadowed as it was in the darkness that surrounded them. He shifted to see if he could see her face any better and found that he couldn't. Turning his attention back to the stage his mind swam with too many thoughts and feelings.

Wiping the sweat from his palms he tried to calm his anxiety. It wasn't as if he was on a date.

_Except that you are_, his inner voice taunted smugly.

Ignoring his inner voice he thought about his relationship so far with Catherine. He had been around her only a handful of times, and he hadn't felt nervous because there had been either her sibling or his siblings or both around. And now he felt himself trembling and sweating with suffocating anxiety.

When he had picked her up earlier in the evening he had a moment of fear that she wasn't going to show up. Her house had been dark and no SUV had graced the front walk. A few painful heartbeats later she had pulled up to the house and ran up the steps of the house before turning and scanning the surrounding buildings; probably looking for him.

He had pulled himself from the shadows and she had waved him inside. He stared at her a few moments, drinking her in. Her golden hair was piled up and inside the dark grey hat she wore, and her white military style coat was a form fitting enough that is hugged her curves snuggly. He was surprised at the heaviness of the coat but then remembered that Catherine seemed to be cold all the time. Even though she said that the winter's here were much milder than the ones she was used to back home, she still wore a lot of layers.

Catherine had then apologized for being late, saying that she had to drop something off at the museum for her sister -who was apparently helping her out tonight.

He had then told her that she should have told him she was busy and that he would have understood, and it wasn't as if it was a date, to which she raised a dusky eyebrow, opened her mouth to say something, seemed to change her mind, and replied that everything was fine.

He had then looked at her and she had looked back at him before she had finally asked, "What?"

He had then shaken his head, not knowing what was bothering him about Catherine, and chalked it up to nerves. It would be the first time they had ever really been one on one, and he felt...unsure. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but was determined to enjoy the night and hopefully placate Raphael and his other brothers.

The final note was finally sung and everyone applauded, drawing him back to the present.

Catherine was clapping and he motioned for her to follow him back outside. She readily followed and when they had reached the rooftop she remained quiet, almost contemplative. This made him uneasy. Although Catherine tended to be the quieter of two he had never noticed how much of the silence Elizabeth tended to fill with her exuberant chatter.

Catherine could also have hated the opera which would explain her silence. He swallowed nervously. "Did you-" he began, but she turned her luminous green eyes upon him and his words caught in his throat as she smiled at him.

"That was..." she paused as if thinking for the right word, "...an experience."

He looked at her uncertainly. "A good one?" he prompted. "I know you said that you had been to the opera before and you liked it," he was rambling now. "And I know the view wasn't the best and you are probably used to better-"

"Leo...nardo," his name was broken into two syllables, which sounded odd. She shook her head a few times. "That was the best time I have ever had at the opera." She grinned from ear to ear. "Being able to see what was going on both backstage and on stage was...amazing."

He felt himself smiling with relief. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"What about you? Did _you_ enjoy it?" she asked a curious smile playing around the corners of her very, very full and kissable- his mind screeched to a halt. He was not thinking about her in _that_ way. She was just a friend.

_Sure she is,_ his inner voice mocked.

He mentally girded himself against the voice and took a step back from her and her alluring scent which drifted in on the wind even as he tried to place the smell. It was...like incense mixed with something more...flowery, earthy and somewhat intoxicating.

She raised an eyebrow in question and he realized he hadn't answered her. "I think it may be an acquired taste, but...it is quite beautiful."

She grinned then and laughed. It was a full-throated sound that resonated within him and confused him all at the same time because he was unsure if she was laughing at him, or if she found his answer somehow amusing. He was not generally considered funny, and it was rare for anyone to laugh unless it was _at _him.

"I couldn't have said it better myself. It _is_ an acquired taste and even if you don't like it, there is something somehow beautiful about it anyway," she said wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

He allowed himself to smile, pleased at her compliment. He even felt a little heat of embarrassment rise up in his cheeks so he turned his head away from her and stared out into the night, not really sure of what to do next. It was late –just a little after ten- and he knew Catherine had worked early and late; she had to be exhausted.

"So, what's next?" Catherine asked him and he felt his heart speed up.

"I'll escort you home," he answered because he hadn't planned for anything after the opera. "I know you've had a long day."

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment, and he felt uncomfortable, as if she saw something hidden within his gaze that he didn't want known. Catherine then gave a one shouldered shrug that he associated more with her sister than her. "True," she agreed her face still thoughtful. She turned walking a few steps away from him before she stopped. "Come on, I want to show you something."

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"It's a surprise," she said a smile that carried with it a hint of challenge; almost a dare of sorts. He warred with himself. He had gone out with Catherine, they had enjoyed the night, and now it was time to go home because he was her friend, and as her friend, he should care about her well-being enough to not bring her any further into his life, because if anything ever happened to her because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He took a step towards her. _I can't. _That's what he was supposed to have said, instead what came out of his mouth was, "Lead the way."

He honestly didn't know what was wrong with him. He didn't know why he could never seem to walk away from her and that smile that challenged him; giving him no choice but to answer the challenge because he wasn't a coward.

He just hoped he knew what he was doing, but had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to regret following the woman who stood in front of him.

* * *

**Catherine** was tired, and more than that, she was in a foul mood stemming from the fact that her sister was on the date that she herself should have been on. _Or not-date..._ _whatever_... The point was, she was supposed to be on it and now she was going to have to go home and wait until her sister showed up to tell her how awful the not-date had been, and how boring Leonardo was. Then she would have to try to pick through the bits and pieces of information to form a coherent, accurate picture of the night, hoping against hope and that her sister hadn't managed to mess things up too badly.

And that was part of the problem too. She had been so worried that Leonardo would see through her sister's deception that he would be furious and hurt and never talk to her again. She had even changed her mind back and forth several times over, and when her sister had shown up to swap vehicles and, jackets, and cell phones, she had wanted to call the whole thing off. The only problem with that was that Elizabeth was already ready to go, and there just wasn't any time. As it was, Elizabeth was already cutting things a little close because as it had stood, her sister was going to be late getting back to the Brownstone.

She had had no choice by then and she had sat and stewed for the next two and a half hours. To make matters worse, because she had been distracted, she had made several mistakes on her restoration project that had to be fixed; which meant she had been at work even longer than necessary.

She wearily pulled on her sister's motorcycle 'leathers' as she called them. These consisted of black leather chaps and matching leather jacket. She then grabbed her sister's black helmet with purple detailing of stylized flowers and walked with it to the back entrance. She wound up her hair and shoved it on top of her head before slipping the helmet on and walking out the back door and into the parking lot where her sister's Vehicle of Death sat.

It was a beautiful black Suzuki Ninja (the irony was not lost upon her) motorcycle. Catherine could ride the bike, but she hated doing so in New York. At home she had ridden a motorcycle and had enjoyed her rides. But here in a city this size and with traffic as bad as it was, she hated it. She was happy driving her SUV, and least she felt protected. Her sister didn't seem to care and even rode the thing in winter, which Catherine had tried her best not to complain about as Elizabeth had no other mode of transportation, (besides public transit which she refused to use). And so Catherine had to leave her to it.

She let out a huff of irritation, her visor up as she approached her sister's bike and slung a leg over the seat, settling herself down. Putting the key into the ignition she was just about to turn it on when the rumble of another motorcycle filled the night.

Looking over her shoulder she saw a custom crimson crotch rocket pull up; the headlights momentarily blinding her so that she had to put her hand up in front of her eyes.

The person stepped off his bike, approaching her with determined, assured steps. She frowned as she recognized the silhouette a brief second before Raphael stepped in front of his headlights so she could see his face as he flipped his visor up.

She could tell he was grinning, "Hey, Babe, I knew you said you were busy working here late tonight for your sister, but I just happened to be driving by and saw you and..." Catherine lowered her arm and Raphael's words halted as he let out a confused "Catherine?"

She inwardly cringed at being called 'Babe' and bit down on her anger because it had suddenly turned to icy fear when Raphael recognized her. She had all of two seconds to decide to own up to her duplicity or flat out lie. If it had been Donatello or Michelangelo in front of her she probably would have broken down and told them the truth, but as it was Raphael, she knew she couldn't. She didn't know what he would do with the information, but had no doubt that whatever he would do it wouldn't be pretty.

The problem of course rested with the small little problem of her inability to lie. She tended to turn as red as a tomato with embarrassment and stammered. Lying was the metaphorical chink in her armour and she knew she was already going to have problems facing Leonardo the next time she saw him. (A slight oversight in her scheme that she had overlooked.)

Groaning inwardly at this thought she turned her attention back to Raphael.

She didn't hate Raphael -hate was too strong a word- but she disliked him. He was an aggressive, bitter, sarcastic bully who enjoyed tormenting his brothers, especially Leonardo. And for some reason she couldn't completely understand, he got under her skin; purposefully. If he wasn't snapping and snarling at her, he was mocking and taunting her. She didn't know why he had some sort of sick and twisted hate-on for her, but he did. His normal personality would have been hard to contend with, but throw in his animosity towards her and it was almost unbearable.

And now he was on the cusp of finding out that she had created this giant charade involving her sister pretending to be her and if Raphael found out she knew he would spin it in the worst possible way. _Not that he needed any help with this, but still,_ she acknowledged bitterly in her head.

And so she decided to dig herself into an even bigger hole. She looked at him with insulted confusion and said, "Still can't tell us apart, Raphael?" she asked teasingly and tried not to wince as she realized she had used his full name rather than his nickname as Elizabeth did. She crossed her arms over her chest as Elizabeth was want to do, hoping this would make up for her mistake.

Raphael still seemed confused, eyes narrowed in speculation as he tried to understand what was going on.

She wasn't admitting to being herself, but she was also not admitting to being Elizabeth either. "So if I wear only minimal make-up and you can't see my hair, you can't tell me and my sister apart?" she asked, her voice almost teasing, but containing a hint of offence.

_It isn't my fault that Raphael can't tell me and my sister apart. If he mistakes me for Elizabeth, that isn't really my fault is it? s_he argued with herself_._

Her conscience partially assuaged she waited to see what Raphael would say or do.

She almost felt sorry for Raphael...almost.

Elizabeth was flirtatious and friendly which for men translated into 'I am interested', which was not always the case. With Raphael her sister was sitting firmly on the fence and she wasn't going to budge unless she wanted to.

Unfortunately Catherine wasn't sure if Elizabeth had told Raphael yet that she wasn't interested right now. If her sister had then that meant Raphael was trying to push her, if not then Raphael was wasting his time.

"Well, you ain't yellin' at me, so I know you ain't Catherine," Raphael said as he took off his helmet, giving her a smug smile; the kind she usually wanted to smack right off his face.

She tried to control her irritation. She never yelled at him, he was always yelling at her. Catherine took a deep breath and tried to remember that for the moment she was being ambiguous, so she let out a derisive snort. "I could just be acting very nice to you right now," she taunted.

It was Raphael's turn to snort. "Yeah right." He waved away her words. "So, you all done? Wanna hang for a bit?" Raphael asked and then added, "Leo and your sister are gone, we can finally go out and have some fun and not have them on our asses, or if you want...we could stay in," he smiled suggestively; no doubt with what he thought was a charming smile.

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to let the disgust she felt cross her features. Thankfully the lower part of her face was covered because she was pretty sure her mouth had curled into a frown of revulsion. Spending even one minute in Raphael's company was one minute too long. She was not spending the night with him 'hanging out' and she was NOT, NOT, NOT getting all cosy with him in a naked kind of way.

Not being one to be ruled by her emotions she pushed them all aside and looked at her situation logically. On the one hand, if she blew Raphael off then he would no doubt pester her as to why and would eventually offer to ride with her home, and the last thing she needed was to run into Leonardo and Elizabeth coming back from their not-date. On the other hand...see above and amount of time spent with Raphael which was way too long.

His smile wavered and fell as she caught just a moment of hurt or perhaps even vulnerability as it quickly flashed through his golden-amber eyes before it was quickly replaced with anger. The moment was gone so quickly she could have sworn she had imagined it. He shifted his stance and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.

She realized then that she had taken too long to answer, and he was about to storm away or snap, which she didn't care about except the last thing she wanted was Raphael accusing her of being well...herself and messing everything up with Leonardo.

Her mind skipped and jumped and came upon something that she enjoyed and her sister hated because she had panicked. "I've got an idea," she said smoothly, pretending that she had been thinking and hadn't noticed his sudden anger.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Yeah?"

She grinned. "Follow me." She slid her visor down and silently cursed in her head; the irony of the situation not lost upon her. Here she was on a not-date with Raphael, while her sister was on a not-date with Leonardo.

This caused her to frown. She slid her visor back up and Raphael -already back on his bike- pulled up next to her. "Why is your older brother out with my sister tonight anyway? What changed?" she asked curiously avoiding all uses of names so as not to give herself away or flat out lie.

Raphael looked at her and gave a shrug. "No idea, and I don't care," he lied and she could tell it was a lie. She had no idea why he wouldn't tell the truth or how she knew he wasn't being truthful, but she did.

"What did you do?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously and wondering if Raphael had threatened Leonardo with physical harm if he didn't go out with...well... her, tonight.

Raphael again crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "I told him there was another guy that your sister was interested in. But Mikey finally pushed him." Raphael gave a shrug of his shoulders and a slight smile before turning serious again. "Course Leo won't even admit it's a date, but whatever. I'm stayin' out of his business and hopefully he''ll stay outta mine."

She opened her mouth to ask him why he hadn't asked Elizabeth out yet, but figured that this would just be an encouragement and complicate things at the moment, and so she told him instead, "Well this isn't a date either." With that she closed her visor and started up her sister's Vehicle of Death, drowning out any of Raphael's words that he may have spoken.

* * *

**Awwhhh poor Raph, I almost feel sorry for him. hehe**

**Well I think things are about to get interesting;)**

**Thoughts and opinions are always welcome.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello all! Chapter 7 can you believe it!? And this story is just getting started so not to worry;)**

**A giant thank you as always to my lovely reviewers Ougi-San, Diana Fay, rinpup14, SleepingSeeker, Kimmie98 and Cessy1713.**

**This chapter is a little darker and serious, but I think there is still enough humour in it.:)**

**And now on with the show;)**

* * *

Chapter 7

**Elizabeth** walked arm and arm with Leonardo and had to refrain from grinning broadly. Leonardo was so uncomfortable that she wanted to see just how much she could make him squirm, so she pressed in even closer to him as they walked down the street. Of course, he didn't protest her closeness, because that would have been ungentlemanly and he couldn't do that.

Elizabeth finally stopped, pulling away from him and walking towards a wall that had a few pieces of graffiti artwork -mostly lettering- painted upon the mostly white wall.

Looking back at Leonardo she found he was looking around, not in curiosity, but in uneasiness. His eyes darted past the shadows, his body tense, his posture slightly hunched over as if preparing for an attack.

She approached him and lightly touched his shoulder. He jumped, pulling away from her hand and reaching back for weapons he didn't have.

Elizabeth froze, her heart hammering in her chest as she stood like a doe caught in the headlights of a fast moving car. She had never considered Leonardo or any of his brothers dangerous. She knew they were adept in martial arts and each had a weapon of choice, but she had never witnessed any of their training or skills put to use. But in an instant she saw the quick and deadly grace and capability of someone who had spent nearly all of his twenty five years fighting for survival in all of its horrendous shapes and forms, and she stood in awe of that.

Leonardo paled, lines of horror etched into his face in response to his violent reaction to something so simple as a touch. Only moments before they had been walking arm in arm, but he had seen her move to take his arm, this movement he hadn't. Realizing this, she forgot that she was supposed to be her calm and collected sister Catherine, sliding instead into her own personality, unable to stop her reaction.

She reached out and poked him in the shoulder gauging his reaction. He didn't move only stared at her, face inscrutable. Her head whipped around as if she had heard something from just over his right shoulder. His whole body tensed, as he quickly turned, falling into a defensive stance, fists raised to defend himself.

She slid around suddenly grabbing onto his left shoulder. He jumped, flinching back from both of her hands, which had for a few brief moments, wrapped around an impressively muscular bicep.

"You have got to get that fixed." she quipped as she poked him again. His dark eyes were obscured by the shadows, but Elizabeth didn't need to see them to know that he was furious. Whether he was furious with her or with himself she wasn't sure, so she stepped away, giving him some breathing room.

She turned on her heel and walked a few paces away before turning to look back at him. His face was still in shadow, but she could see his mouth and it was pulled into a frown, jaw clenched, muscle twitching from gritting his teeth or from clenching his jaw shut; either way Elizabeth knew that she had to smooth things out. She gave a nonchalant shrug, as if she didn't care what his problem was, and didn't really care if he was angry.

Instead she set out to do what she had been about to do. "I know this isn't the best neighbourhood_," It really wasn't, _she admitted to herself, "but that is why we are here."

Turning she walked over to a nearby dumpster and reached behind it, pulling out a duffel bag. She didn't bother looking at Leonardo, giving him a chance to pull himself together of do whatever the hell he had to do to compose himself and get over whatever his problem was.

She rummaged through the duffel bag before finally finding what she was looking for. "Here, catch." She turned and lobbed what she had taken from the bag at Leonardo.

Plucking it easily out of the air he looked in surprise at what he now held in his hand.

Pulling out another spray can she shook it; the sound of metal on metal echoing around the quiet street. She turned to the wall and painted a large curved line in black before Leonardo grabbed her wrist, his furious brown, nearly black eyes glaring down into her own.

She blinked at him, and she felt her breath catch a little in her throat at the smoldering gaze. She was used to everyone being taller than she was -she was only 5 foot even- and Leonardo wasn't much taller than she was -she would guess between 5'4" or 5'6" at the most, but at the moment she could feel the power in his grip, and the menace of his anger at her actions.

"What do think you are doing?" he snarled at her and she could almost feel the rumble of his voice vibrate throughout her body.

"I am painting," she huffed pulling her wrist from his hand as if his close proximity and voice had not affected her in any way. "Don't worry, vandalism is illegal, but it isn't vandalism if you own the building...or I suppose technically rent the wall would be a better way to put it."

Leonardo's eyes narrowed, and Elizabeth found herself swallowing. He didn't say anything, his fury radiating around him like a dark cloud, waiting for a more thorough explanation.

"There are some very talented street artists in this city," she explained hastily. "But when your art is considered vandalism it's a hard thing to find places where you can express yourself. So my sister and I have rented a few walls that they can legally paint on. The communities don't mind because it helps cut down on random graffiti, the artists have a place they can paint, and gang taggers tend to leave the walls alone. There are rules of course, no profanity, no nudity, and it has to be art, not a gang tag, but other than that anything else goes. They fill up the wall and once the wall is filled, we paint over everything and start all over again. "

Leonardo's expression was still inscrutable and his stance was still stiff and angry, but he stepped back a step, giving her some breathing room.

Elizabeth took in a shaking breath and studied Leonardo. Raphael was right in his assessment of his older brother needing to have some fun, but he also had to learn to take it down a notch, relax, enjoy the moment, and not be so paranoid.

She smiled at him, remembering too late that she was supposed to be her sister, and her sister never let her inner thoughts show upon her face. Her sister had the best poker face -even better than Leonardo's- and it was perhaps because she was able to at times see through her sister's façade, that she had the ability to see past Leonardo's.

Sighing she thought _'screw it'_ and decided to just be herself. She hadn't been giving the best performance of her sister anyway.

Turning and leaving Leonardo to decide what he wanted to do, she looked back at her curved line. Her sister was far better at drawing straight from her imagination than she was. For her she had to have numerous reference materials in order to draw something half decent, her sister could just pull something from inside her brain and render it beautifully and fully formed upon whatever canvas she chose.

This didn't mean that Elizabeth herself was not without talent. There were some things she was able to draw, sketch and paint beautifully. She frowned and changed her mind about what she was going to paint with the spray can. She went back and dug around in the bag, pulling out a can of red, an orange and a yellow.

The world dropped away as she used sweeping motions with her arms to fill in the white space. She concentrated and switched between various colours, her fingers becoming stained with paint.

She stepped back after the last line was rendered. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't her best work, but it was probably her most poignant. A sunset sky had been rendered in oranges, reds and yellows, the impression of ruined, smoldering buildings lay in the background. Chaos and destruction surrounded a lone figure upon what could only be a battlefield. There were no details, only black and brown shapes giving the impression of fallen warriors, broken flags and weapons strewn around one lone survivor, his stance bowed, but unbroken. The warrior wore samurai armour, but again there was no detail, the sunrise casting everything into dark shadow. Sword almost used as a crutch the warrior held out a hand as a single perfect orange hued cherry blossom drifted towards his hand. If his hand looked like it only possessed three fingers, well one might think it was perhaps a trick of the moonlight illuminating the wall.

"You can write Japanese kanji, right?" She looked over her shoulder at Leonardo who stood motionless, spray can forgotten in his hand.

He looked at her and seemed to shake himself, as if he was coming out of a dream or a trance.

"Yeah," he answered voice oddly hoarse.

"Good. I want you to write something for me."

He nodded and walked over to the wall. She indicated a spot in the sky. "Write: The end of each day brings with it the hope of a new and better tomorrow."

He gave her a blank face that would have given her sister a run for her money before he gave a slight nod and shook the can of black spray paint in his hand. He began writing with swift sure strokes and finished within moments. She stepped back and smiled, satisfied with their efforts. She took out her sister's phone and took a picture of the wall.

"Hey!" there was a shout from down the street.

"Whoops, time to go," Elizabeth said grabbing the paint cans and throwing them back in the duffle bag before stashing it behind the dumpster.

Leonardo's shadowed eyes looked at her, mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Elizabeth reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Come on," she insisted.

"I thought you said you were allowed to paint on this wall," he hissed at her.

"I am, and I would explain it to the nice gentleman, but he probably doesn't know and since I am standing with a giant walking, talking turtle, I think we should run instead."

He finally relented and allowed her to drag him away. They broke into a run and although she could tell that Leonardo was fuming, she couldn't help but smile and with that smile she couldn't help but laugh. Her laughter echoed off the walls and as they ran and Leonardo gave her an odd look before pulling back on her hand, stopping them.

She looked up at him in confusion.

"Hold on," he growled as he suddenly scooped her up into his arms. Surprised, she complied by throwing her arms around his neck. Then he ran, leaping onto a dumpster, up to a window ledge, fire escape and then a to the rooftop.

He let her go and she slowly slid down his hard body; the strength of his arms and the pleasant scent of musk, incense and herbs surrounding her. She glanced up at him, his eyes still smoldering with emotion and dark with anger. It was like looking into the eyes of a wild animal; strength, power and ferocity, lashed and barely contained.

A light bulb went off in her head as she finally understood what her sister saw in Leonardo. Underneath his cool, calm, controlled and apparently boring exterior there was a dangerous, passionate, beast that paced back and forth within its cage just waiting to be released, if only for a moment.

"Wow." The word slipped out as a breathless exhalation of air before she could stop it. Her heartbeat sped up with embarrassment and she managed to quickly cover her gaffe by adding, "look at that view."

She pulled away and gazed at Manhattan's downtown core. She gazed at the brightly lit buildings and had to admit that the view _was_ spectacular.

Mentally pulling herself together she looked over at Leonardo whose face was still set into grim lines. She looked back at the skyline. She was going to say something pithy and witty, perhaps even funny, but instead found herself becoming serious. "It's okay to just let go, have fun, and enjoy yourself," she said finally looking over her shoulder at him. He didn't respond and she looked back out over the brightly lit towers rising from the darkness below like a poetic beacon of hope, or light, or some other such thing.

"Your brothers will stumble and fall and make mistakes and you have to accept this. You can even be there to help them when they do make mistakes, but they will never learn unless you let them," she said acknowledging to herself that she had been on the receiving end of stifling sisterly concern. But her sister had learned to let go and now it was time for Leonardo to do the same. She moved her head just enough to glance at Leonardo out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking at her, but towards another part of the city. Uncertainty filled her as she realized that she had messed everything up, the silence falling into a forbidding sort of melancholy.

"Trust me when I say that being the older sibling sucks because everyone expects so much from you. But it doesn't mean you have to give it to them. Come on," she said turning and making a movement with her hand. "I know the best place in town to get pizza."

He lifted a skeptical eyeridge and not commenting on her advice observed, "I've lived here all my life," he stated, a hint of angry growl still evident in his voice.

"So?" she asked as if that had any bearing on where the best pizza place in town was. Then she grinned from ear to ear, a challenge filling her eyes and expression. "My pizza place versus yours."

He frowned.

"Unless you think that a New York newbie has more of a chance of winning than a born and bred New Yorker," she taunted lightly.

He narrowed his eyes at her and she mentally screamed at her heart to stop beating so damn fast. She wondered if Leonardo had figured out that she was Elizabeth and not Catherine. Not that she would be surprised if he had, after all, she had practically dropped any pretense of being her sister, but still...

He then motioned with his hand. "Ladies first."

She grinned and ignored the fact that her heart seemed to still be beating too quickly, and not because it was fearful of discovery.

* * *

**Raphael** frowned as they pulled up to a darkened building on Randall's Island. There was a sign that proclaimed it to be a Golf Center. He took off his helmet and wondered what they were doing.

He had driven around Manhattan and if he had driven in an almost continuous circle between the Brownstone and the Museum, he wasn't about to admit it to anyone, especially not to himself. He was also not going to admit that he had no idea of what the hell he was doing.

He had never dated a woman before, and he had never asked a woman out on a date either. Hell, dating a woman had been so far outside the realm of possibility for him, that he had never even allowed himself to imagine 'what if' and now found himself out to sea because there was a very small chance that he _could_.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his sweating palms on his jeans.

He had given Leonardo flack for his inability to call his date with Catherine a date, but the truth was that he wasn't actually sure how the whole 'dating' thing worked anyway. Of course Elizabeth had just told him flat out that they weren't on a date, which had pissed him off and floored him because now he really had no idea of what to do.

He had been hoping to just hang out with Elizabeth enough and then just get to the point where it was just assumed that she was his girlfriend. Then he wouldn't have to go through that awkward first date crap that seemed to always happen on TV. Either that or he would just tell Elizabeth that she was his girl and leave it at that.

But now they were finally alone, so it was possible that he would be able to turn things up a little bit. Catherine always tended to be around, giving him disapproving looks, which just pissed him off. Everything about her bothered him. She was just like Leonardo, always being the older sibling, always trying to ruin their fun, always using big words and talking down to him like he was some kind of punk-ass kid. He admitted to himself that he perhaps deserved a little of her resentment because of the way he acted, and for some of the things he said. Hell, he would say things just to see what she would do and say. He tried to keep things a little more civil when Elizabeth was around, but if she left the room, he and Catherine were like two opposing sides in an all out war against each other.

He looked over at Elizabeth who had dismounted from her bike, but kept her helmet on.

He had nearly had a heart attack when Elizabeth had flipped up her visor and he had seen Catherine's face instead of Elizabeth's. It was ridiculous. He knew they were identical twins, but he never really thought of them as looking alike. Catherine was all daylight and earth hued golds; while Elizabeth was midnight and purple hued blues. Seeing Elizabeth without her make-up was disconcerting because he swore he was looking at Catherine, and this thought made him uncomfortable. Of course he was not going to ask himself why this made him uncomfortable because he didn't care.

"So what're we doing here?" he asked placing his helmet on his leg as he continued to sit on his bike.

She pulled out a set of keys, put one in the lock and turned. Raphael blinked in shock and stood, getting off his bike.

"Put your helmet back on," she ordered and he frowned, trying to remind himself that he as following Elizabeth, not Catherine.

He shook his head and slammed his helmet back on. He wasn't good with surprises -he hated them- and no matter how much he liked Elizabeth, if she didn't tell him what was going on, he was going to snap.

Elizabeth slipped inside and he followed. The building was dark and he could just barely make out her darker than the shadows silhouette as she slunk through the halls.

Trying to take in his surroundings, his muscles tightened as if readying himself for battle. He slid up his visor to see better, but it didn't help. It was still suffocating and he had lost sight of Elizabeth.

A shadow move off to his left and exited out of the building through a set of double doors. There were two people and Raphael felt his hands grasp the hilts of his sais, because he never went anywhere without his weapons.

His mind was screaming at him that he was walking into a trap. He had no idea why but his skin had begun to crawl; his heartbeat increasing as he slowly pulled his sais from his belt, slipping through the shadows and making sure the coast was clear, before exiting through the door that the two figures had gone through only moments earlier.

He cursed at himself for not seeing the ruse earlier. What better way for their enemies to strike at he and his brothers then to throw two drop dead gorgeous women at them, and have the women lead them into a trap when their guard came down?

Raphael grimaced as he realized that he was thinking like Leonardo, and tired to reason with himself that whoever the enemy was would have had to go to a lot of work and effort to pull off such a deception. And besides, why not attack them at home? Elizabeth and Catherine had both been to the lair, and although both women had been there a only few times, they would have no trouble finding it again. Unless the enemy wanted he and Leonardo separated from each other for some reason...

He knew he was being paranoid and ridiculous but he still couldn't hear anything but the rush of blood through his ears as he cautiously moved from one shadow to the next. The cool wind slipped through the space between his helmet and jacket causing goose bumps to ride along his arms.

Huge spotlights suddenly flashed to life, blinding him. He raised his hand up to block out the light and was just able to make out the figure of a woman with a weapon of some sort in her hands, possibly a bat.

He could hear the sound of wood or something else lightly striking flesh.

_He was suddenly in a small sterile room; the sharp smell of disinfectant assaulting his nostrils. The blinding white light stinging his eyes, as the sound of a deep, taunting, menacing voice whispered threats and promises of torture before he put action to his words. _

_The acrid, coppery smell of his own blood infused the air, the pain burning, biting, raging through his body as he tried not to scream. _

_He thrashed trying to escape his bonds, escape the pain_- _kill the one responsible.._.

"I hope you like baseball." A soft voice managed to penetrate through his consciousness.

Raphael was slammed back into his body; pins and needles flowing across his skin, body hunched over, muscles pulled tight, ready to charge, his hands holding his sais in a white knuckled grip.

Elizabeth approached him and was looking at him, baseball helmet covered head tipped to the side, hip cocked, a bat in one hand, a baseball in the other. She lazily tossed the ball up and down; completely unaware at how close she had come to being attacked.

Raphael swallowed roughly, trying to get his heart under control as he slowly straightened, trying to appear nonchalant as he slid his sais back into his belt.

"Yeah," his voice was hoarse, soft and an octave higher than usual. He cleared his throat and reaffirmed his positive answer.

"You any good?"

Raphael looked around and realized they were in an open area with eight batting cages lined up beside each other. More lights lit up the night and Raphael heard heavy footsteps approaching, stopping a short distance away.

"Do you have everything you need, Miss Brooks?" A man's voice asked.

"We're good, thank you, Eric." She waved towards a man who looked like a security guard.

He gave a tip of his hat and wandered back inside.

Elizabeth threw him a baseball helmet and he easily caught it. "I know some people who know some people. It's been a while since I've been here, but I get to use the facility after hours whenever I want. Although I've never been interested in the golf, or the foosball table, or the shuffleboard, but that's just me."

He looked at the helmet before looking back at her, but Elizabeth was already walking away, her hips swaying provocatively as she entered a batting cage.

"Are you coming or are you just going to stand there all night?" she threw over her shoulder.

Raphael shook himself trying to get rid of the last dregs of his waking nightmare. This was not the first time something like this had happened; suffering a flashback. But it was the first time it had happened in a while. Certain things would trigger the memories, and thankfully the only one who knew that they still happened was Casey, and he intended to keep it that way.

Casey wanted him to tell his brothers, but he had refused. He was fine and didn't need any help. He had gotten sick and tired of his brother's hovering around him, trying to coddle him and treating him like he was this fragile, breakable thing that needed to be fixed. He was getting better. Hell, he had even managed to grab more than three hours of sleep at night for the past several months, almost a year.

Nightmares would still haunt him every now and then, but he had learned to sleep some of the night on the couch with the TV on and usually Michelangelo nearby. If he was sleeping in his own bed, alone and in the dark, he slept with his face buried in his pillow to drown out his screams.

He tried to ignore the fury that suffused him at his own weakness. Truthfully he was ashamed with himself because something that had happened over four years ago still had the ability to affect him and turn him into a terrified mindless creature filled with nothing but suffocating panic.

Shoving these thoughts from his mind he pulled off his motorcycle helmet and threw it to the ground. He dragged the baseball helmet onto his head, fighting against rage that was flowing through him at having let himself become paranoid and for having an 'attack' over nothing.

He walked over to the batting cage still trying to get his breathing under control. "You any good?" he asked her trying to sound like his usual confident self instead of the frightened animal he had just become.

She gave him a non-committal shrug. He watched her as the machine set, feeling his muscles finally loosen from their tense, knotted position. She was batting left, which was strange because he hadn't thought that Elizabeth was left handed.

Raphael laughed when she struck out a few times feeling himself getting back to normal. "You wanna see how it's done?"

She grimaced and stepped out of the cage, giving him the bat. He gave her a cocky grin while she gave him a mocking smile.

"Be my guest," she challenged.

The ball flew at him and he struck out the first time. He glanced back at her and she had a smirk on her face. He gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip, hitting the next three balls. He grinned, gave Elizabeth a satisfied smirk and hit the next three balls, feeling some of the tension leave his body, his anger draining away.

"And that's how you do it," he boasted.

"Mmmm, apparently," she said her mouth quirked up, almost like she was laughing at him.

His heart sped up and pounded uncomfortably in his chest as he pushed away the image of the Fairy Queen that sprang to mind. This wasn't Catherine, but Elizabeth, and even though he was sure he had never seen the imp of mischief dance in Elizabeth's eyes and light across her lips, he knew that the Fairy Queen's smile had never graced Catherine's lips either. At least he had never seen it, not since the night he had first met her.

Taking in a deep breath he hit another three balls, just so that he could get the image of the Fairy Queen out of his head.

"So are you going to let me try again, or are you going to hog the cage all night?" she asked her voice low and sardonic.

He shrugged to cover up his embarrassment. "Come here and I'll help you."

She lifted a delicate eyebrow, lips still quirked into a teasing smile. "I think I can handle it myself."

"Come on," he coaxed exiting the cage. He tried to tell himself that he was just helping her, he wasn't at all relishing the thought of wrapping his arms around her curvaceous body, her warmth pressed up against his plastron...oh who the hell was he kidding, that was the main reason he was offering to help her.

He reached out for her and she avoided his touch, sliding into the cage and closing it behind her. "Your ego is already big enough; I don't need you 'teaching' me how to hit a baseball. I would never hear the end of it."

He narrowed his eyes at the dig. Her tone was mocking, but there was a teasing smile on her face which caused him to relax.

She swung the bat and struck out again, but this time she grazed it.

Raphael snorted. "You need to practice more."

"Well, I am a little rusty, it's been a while," she answered back as she swung, finally hitting the ball, but it wasn't a good, solid hit.

Raphael teased, "That's a lot of rust. Seriously lemme help you. I can help you with your swing, give you a few pointers."

She shook her head, a wide smile crossing her face and for some reason he had the impression that she was laughing at him again. "I can do it myself." The bat finally connected with the next ball that was pitched and it was a half decent hit. "See," she motioned.

"Yeah, but what if we turn up the juice?" he questioned as he motioned to another batting cage which had a pitching machine that threw the balls faster.

"I can keep up, can you?" she shot back, eyes filling with the green fire at the challenge.

His breath caught in his throat; heart pounding almost painfully in his chest at the sparks of determination and passion in her eyes. He swallowed, covering his momentary breathlessness with a self-assured grin. "Yeah I can," he said with a smug, cocky smile. " I'll tell you what; you miss again, you owe me a date," he said smoothly.

She blew out a breath, studying him intently. "Raphael, this isn't a good time right now."

And there she was calling him his full name again. He hated it when his full name was thrown around; he always felt like he was getting in trouble. The only one who consistently called him Raphael was Catherine, and he was sure she did it just to piss him off, or because she was usually snapping at him and giving him shit about something. Of course she called everyone by their full names but he wasn't thinking about that, instead he was frowning as his mind finally caught up with the rest of her words.

"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion. "You can pick whatever day you want."

"No, I mean no serious dating right now," she reiterated.

"That's fine," he insisted. "I'm good with that."

She opened her mouth, snapped it shut, and frowned before replying. "So you are looking for what? Fun buddies?"

Raphael gave a one shouldered shrug trying to appear calm and confident; as if actually knew what the hell he was doing and what she was talking about. "I like what we got. We hang out, have fun, and if other stuff happens, sounds good to me."

Her eyes narrowed as if she was debating on being offended or not. She ground the end of the bat into the ground as she leaned against it. "And when another guy ends up at the Brownstone after a date, you'd be okay with that?"

Raphael blinked, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down. "What?" he asked in confusion, his brain unable to process her words.

"Exclusive means no dating other people, so a relationship. Not being in a relationship would mean both sides can date other people," she explained patiently.

"I know what being in a relationship is," he snapped.

She raised a dark eyebrow. "Do you?"

He ground his teeth together. "Yes."

"Good, because a relationship is off the table right now."

"Why?" he asked, realizing that this was not going as well as he thought it would.

"Because sometimes when you give someone your heart, they crush it, and when you finally get it functioning again, you protect it, barricade it, shield it, and lock it up where no one can reach it, so that you never have to feel that kind of pain again," she answered her words, low, harsh, and biting.

Raphael opened his mouth to retort back, but he had nothing to say, so he closed his mouth with a snap. He had never been in love and truthfully didn't think he was capable of the emotion. And even if he was, he wasn't looking for love because he didn't want it. He had seen how squirrely, moody and irritable Leonardo had become and he was pretty sure his brother wasn't even in love yet, just really interested, and Raphael was not planning on becoming that way. He hadn't been lying, he liked Elizabeth, enjoyed her company and wanted something physical, but love was not part of the equation because she was right. Love was trouble because it left you open to being hurt, and he never wanted anyone to have that much power over him...ever.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and looked away, maybe angry with herself for revealing something so personal. Raphael's mind spun as he attempted to salvage what was quickly becoming a disastrous night.

He opened his mouth to tell her _something,_ even though he had no idea what to say, but she spoke before he could.

"You don't know what you want, Raphael."

"Yeah, I do," he shot back because he knew exactly what he wanted.

She let out another frustrated breath. "Then what do you want?" she asked.

"A date," he ground out.

"Fine," she agreed. "I miss, and you have yourself a date."

"Good," he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "You get one chance and you need to hit _that_ ball," he said pointing to the 75 mile an hour pitcher.

"Fine," she agreed, stalking over to the batting cage. Raphael walked over and watched. A smug, triumphant smile worked it's was across his face, banishing the angry scowl. She had as good as agreed to a date because there was no way in hell that she was going to hit the ball, because it was something even he couldn't do. He had spent nights with Casey in a few batting cages and even Casey had problems hitting the fastest pitched ball. Raphael of course still tried, but when he did hit it he knew it was nothing but pure luck.

Switching hands and batting position Raphael felt the smile fall from his face. "What are you doing?" he asked, a horrible inkling seeping into his mind.

"I'm batting," she replied as if it were obvious what she was doing.

The pitching machine shot out the ball and she swung the bat easily and with a significant amount of power. The crack of wood hitting leather echoed into the night. "And if you think that this was just a fluke." She hit the next ball as well as the one after that. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Would you like to try?" she asked him, innocently.

"You're a switch hitter, and you're _good_," he said dully. "What the HELL!?" he exclaimed smashing his fists into the side of the cage angrily.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly go that far," she intoned mischievously. "There was this one time in University... but I don't kiss and tell," she said with a saucy wink, completely unimpressed with his rage.

He glared at her furiously and tried to get the gallivanting images that rode through his head out of his mind at her words.

"I want a re-match." he bit out, speaking each syllable of each word precisely.

"Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?" she asked dryly.

"You played me," he accused.

"I was practicing my swing, it's not my fault you thought I sucked and tried to take advantage of that for your own purposes," she shot back.

He pulled his lips away from his mouth in a silent snarl. He was counting on her not being able to hit the ball and getting a date because she had sucked. Her being right about this fact only made him angrier.

"Men and their egos; such fragile, breakable things," she sighed.

He was so angry he was beyond speech, and even if he was able to speak he didn't know what to say anyway.

"The question is," she placed both of her hands upon the bottom of the bat and leaned against it, "are you angry because you lost, or because I am better than you?" she asked curiously.

He ground his teeth together because he really wasn't sure which made him angrier, but they were probably tied.

She looked at him her face falling into serious lines. She tipped her head in thought, a mannerism he strongly associated with Catherine, but was too angry to really pay much attention to. "You said you liked the way things are right now. If things change, then fine, things change, okay?"

Taking slow, even breaths, he tried to control his rage and his frustration, realizing that was as much of a concession as he was going to get. "Fine," he growled, not knowing what else to say. "So now what?"

"Right now, my left-handed swing needs some serious work, but if you ask really nice," she began, that damn, evil, heart stopping mischievous smile that reminded him so much of the Fairy Queen spreading across her face again. "_I'll_ teach _you_ how to improve your swing; maybe even give you a few pointers."

* * *

**Oooooo I think Raph just got hoist with his own petard. hehe poor Raph, why am I picking on him so much?...no idea but it sure is fun;) **

**Ah well, ****hope everyone enjoyed:)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello all, another update!:D**

**I will be honest and say that I completely re-wrote a big chunk of this chapter because I have decided to go in a different direction with this story. I was going to have it be short and silly, but apparently I can't get away from the angst;) and so it will get a little more serious, but I still hope to retain the silliness and humour that the initial chapters possessed.**

** Thank you to all my reviewers CrazyGeekyLove, rinpup14, ougi-san, cessy1713 and Sleeping Seeker for your reviews!**

**And a giant shout out and thank you as well to SleepingSeeker for being so supportive and for giving me shout outs on fanfic as well as on deviantart. You are super awesome!XD**

**and now on with the show...**

* * *

Chapter 8

**Catherine** watched Raphael rev his engine and pull away from the curb after telling her that he would 'catch her later'.

She pulled the helmet from her head and felt her hair tumble around her shoulders. Pulling her hand through her hair, she ruffled it before dragging her hand away.

Looking over at the Brownstone she saw that a light was on, which meant that her sister was home. She should have felt the need to run up the steps and into the house as fast as she was able to in order to find out what had happened with her sister's not-date with Leonardo, but instead she sat holding the helmet in her lap as she continued to sit on her sister's motorcycle contemplating Raphael.

She had ridden through an emotional gauntlet tonight; annoyance, irritation, terror, aggravation, amusement and finally confusion. And because of this she felt oddly pulled and completely drained.

Having deciding on the batting cages she admitted to herself that it was a horrible idea. Her sister couldn't catch, bat or throw a baseball to save her life, but she had panicked and had been determined to at least lose herself in some practice in before her world came crashing down around her ears.

The batting cages seemed like a great place to work off the anger she felt at herself for agreeing to Elizabeth's stupid scheme in the first place. She regretted it and guilt and sick dread clawed at her stomach.

Even if Elizabeth had played her role to perfection and Leonardo hadn't suspected a thing, she knew she would have no choice but to tell him anyway. She wouldn't be able to look Leonardo in the eye and pretend that she had been out with him when she hadn't been. He was -first and foremost- her friend and she respected him, which meant that she couldn't continue to deceive him.

Lies were the very worst foundation for any sort of relationship.

But again, the whole situation was her own fault, so she had no choice but to suck it up and accept it for what it was.

Looking at Raphael she could admit that there was a perverse sort of mischief in messing with him, it didn't alleviate the annoyance she found at having to be in his company.

She had entered the building, not bothering to wait for Raphael to follow her, but instead seeking out Eric, the security guard, to let him know she was there and to get him to turn on the lights.

The 'people' she knew was actually her uncle, who owned the facility. Her uncle was the same one who had encouraged her and her sister to move to New York in the first place. He was childless, had never married, and was the last surviving member of her mother's family. He had offered them the opportunity to work and live in New York if they helped him organize and oversee the renovations to the Brownstone. He travelled for business and the Brownstone was more of a hobby anyway. He had a very nice and swanky penthouse suite close to the downtown core.

Catherine had agreed, having finished her degree, and Elizabeth had practically vibrated with the chance to live in New York. Her sister had of course hated living in the Brownstone with the constant construction and so had moved out shortly after moving in. Catherine had been okay with that, knowing her sister would strive for 'space' but would inevitably come back, because if there was one thing Elizabeth hated, it was being alone.

Finding Eric and getting him to switch on the power she had gone to get the equipment and had switched a motorcycle helmet out for a baseball one.

Raphael had followed her into the yard and the lights had finally come on, bathing him in bright white and illuminating his terrified face.

He had seen her for a split second before his eyes had gone wild; filled with fury, fear and incomprehensible pain. She hadn't understood how she had known, but she knew with absolute certainty that Raphael stood before her, but his mind was no longer 'home'.

He was too consumed by whatever nightmare he had suddenly been plunged into and she had feared him, because she knew with absolute certainty that he would hurt her. There was no doubt in her mind that whoever he was seeing wasn't her, and whoever had done this to him, had made him nothing more than a mindless beast. He had no other thoughts but to escape, and to inflict severe pain and punishment upon whomever it was that had brought that unimaginable agony and terror into his eyes.

Her hands tightening upon the handle of the bat she was more than ready to defend herself, praying that she would be able to knock him unconscious before one of his deadly sais -which were held in a white knuckled grip- managed to skewer her.

She pretended not to notice, clamping down with a will of steel upon her suffocating panic and fear and negligently threw the ball in her other hand up and down. She licked her dry lips, mouth parched -devoid of any saliva- and asked him in a calm voice that bellied any inner turmoil, "I hope you like baseball."

These were apparently exactly the right words to say, because her calm, almost teasing words had penetrated whatever horror he was reliving, and she was grateful she hadn't had to defend herself against him, because she would have lost.

He would have broken through any defense as easily as if she had been nothing more than a child because he was a trained, skilled and deadly fighter; his body hard, unyielding muscle and keratin, with reflexes that were sharp, controlled, strong, punishing, and brutal.

And even knowing all of this, she had just stood there pretending that everything was normal and that she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.

She was apparently insane...and lucky…so very, very lucky.

Things could have ended up so very different and she knew that if her sister had been with Raphael instead of her, things would have ended up badly because her sister didn't avoid buttons and triggers, but stomped on them just to see what would happen and because she couldn't help herself.

In keeping with pretending that everything was normal, she had watched as Raphael managed to get control of himself, and she had begun practicing her left-handed swing. She was normally better, but her muscles were tense, pulled taunt with residual fear.

Raphael, taunted and teased her and she found herself relaxing slightly, questioning herself if she had really seen what she thought she had. It was possible that he had been surprised and was as paranoid and wound as tightly as Leonardo, and that he had reacted adversely and with fear before he was able to get himself under control.

Promising herself that she would examine Raphael's actions later she only smiled at the barbs he threw her way. She could have switched hands and blown the ball out of the park, but she didn't. She suspected that somehow he would turn their practice into a competition, and she liked nothing more than surprising people. With Raphael, she wanted him to eat his words and knock him down a peg or two.

Smiling she realized that her victory was going to be all that much sweeter when she watched Raphael bat, and saw that she was actually better then he was.

When Raphael offered to help her with her swing she almost burst out laughing, but managed to kindly refuse his offer as well as his touch when he tried to grab her. She would admit that she was actually enjoying herself, but that didn't mean that her opinion of him had changed in any way.

Then the inevitable challenge was levelled because Raphael couldn't understand why she didn't want his help and because that was just the way he was. He had to be the biggest, the loudest, the strongest, and the best at everything.

She didn't.

She was good at some things, horrible at others, and she was proud of what she could do, but did not like to brag or show off; because she generally didn't like to draw attention to herself.

Raphael had challenged her, and she accepted.

She and her sister were both underestimated. They were short and pretty which meant weak and stupid and they were neither. Elizabeth tended to hide her intelligence under the facade of an uncaring, impulsive rebel, but her sister was anything but. She was generous, spontaneous and never thought of herself as a rebel, it was just the impression that she gave off with her punky hair, Goth make-up and intermittent employment (the comic book shop was the only stable paycheck her sister received, the others were on a contract basis only). Elizabeth walked to the beat of her own drum, did what she wanted, enjoyed life to the fullest, and didn't care what people thought of her.

And that was why Catherine had to be the responsible one, because someone had to be. They weren't alone in the world; they had any number of supportive relatives, all of whom had tried to help the grief stricken twins after the death of their parents some ten years earlier. Her and her sister had moved to different cities, provinces, and now to a different country, always moving, always in a state of upheaval, but always together. And Catherine had tried to remain a stable, unerring and supportive influence for her sister. But Elizabeth had a bad habit of falling into scrapes, and Catherine was very good at dragging her sister out of them, which was exhausting.

Thankfully her sister's lack of dating seemed to be coinciding with her lack of trouble and viewed these circumstances as an equation of cause and effect. Which meant that the only positive thing she could say for Raphael was that even though he was an ass, he hadn't dragged Elizabeth into anything as of yet; though she had no doubt that given enough time, he would.

And then Raphael pushed her for a date.

Besides the fact that he thought she was Elizabeth, she couldn't answer for her sister and she didn't want to go on a date with Raphael. The thought was abhorrent to her for more than one reason. For one she was interested in Leonardo, not Raphael; for two Raphael was an egotistical, self centered jerk; which meant he was so not her type.

She calmly explained to Raphael that this wasn't a good time right now (because she was the wrong sister) and he of course couldn't take no for an answer. And then he had pushed her.

She tried to deter him by telling him that serious dating was off the table, because she knew her sister was not interested right now. She was actually trying to help him so that his feelings wouldn't be hurt.

But Raphael just wouldn't take a hint.

She mentioned 'fun buddies' and she had a sneaking suspicion that he had no idea what the term actually meant. Sighing inwardly she realized that Raphael may be older than her by almost five years, but he had absolutely no experience with women or relationships at all. She had known this about the brothers, but it had never been so glaringly obvious as it was at that moment.

So she tried another tactic by asking what he would think if a guy showed up at their place after a date, because she was pretty sure that Raphael had no idea what he was doing or even what he wanted.

He reacted negatively to the thought of Elizabeth dating other guys and so she knew that Raphael was looking for a relationship with her sister and he was going to keep pushing her until she gave him _something_. So she told him the truth of why her sister generally stayed away from decent guys, because even decent guys had the ability to be jerks.

Her sister's last _actual_ boyfriend had been one year older than her sister and they had dated for two years in high school before he had gone off to college where the inevitable happened; college chicks were so much hotter than high school girls, and so her sister had been dumped when he had come home for Christmas. This was fair, these things happened and Catherine gave him points for not breaking up with her sister over the phone, or with an e-mail or a text, he had at least done it in person.

But he had waited until after Elizabeth had given him her gift, which was a rare out of print book that Elizabeth had scoured the internet and every used book store for. He then gave her a pitiful 'it's not you, it's me' speech and 'we should still be friends' and had left with the book and an offer to meet his new girlfriend who he had brought home to meet his parents.

Bastard.

And so her sister decided that there was no point in expecting anything and if she didn't expect anything and set her expectations low, then she wouldn't be hurt.

Catherine looked away, regretting having laid her sister's pain bare, but she hoped that Raphael would understand, and perhaps just be patient with her sister and give her some time.

For once Raphael was actually rendered speechless and before he was able to come up with something to say she told him point blank that he had no idea what he wanted. She hoped that telling him this would allow him to realize that he had things to figure out himself. But Raphael insisted that he knew what he wanted, and he wanted a date.

And so she agreed; just to shut him up. He then upped the ante believing that she would never be able to hit the ball pitched to her at 75 miles an hour, and he wore the smuggest, pleased with himself grin she had ever seen.

Lit by the determination to wipe that smile off his face, she had proceeded to do just that. And just to make sure he didn't protest or blame it on luck, she hit a few more balls, just to prove she could. He was livid, she was triumphant, and she studied him while asking him why he was so angry. She had offered to help him and finally he had agreed. His anger was still very apparent, but suddenly dimmed and she wasn't quite sure why.

Ignoring this she reached out to adjust his stance and that is when he froze. Every single muscle in his body had tightened and she wondered if Raphael had the same problem with being touched that Leonardo seemed to have; or if it related back to whatever had happened to him in the courtyard.

It was also possible that he had never had a woman touch him before and he had no idea what to do. Though she wasn't trying to be flirtatious Raphael might not know this. She moved up and quickly and efficiently adjusted his torso and his arms, glancing up through her eyelashes to observe his face and from her vantage point, he looked panicked.

Repressing a sigh because she wasn't sure what was going on in his head and knowing that Raphael probably didn't either, she decided that he would probably feel better if she just backed away. And so she did, allowing him to hit the ball after one final adjustment.

Giving her a grin at having hit the ball, he told her that the 'help' she gave him had nothing to do with the fact that he was able to hit the ball, and that it was all his own talent. His words were cocky but sounded forced, and the smile didn't reach his eyes.

After this they left and she had the distinct feeling that Raphael was retreating -from what she had no idea- but her touching him had bothered him in a way that he obviously hadn't anticipated.

And so she sat on her sister's motorcycle and revisited Raphael's earlier reaction to her in the courtyard when she believed him to be within the grip of some sort of waking nightmare. This coupled with his reaction to her touch made her think that it was possible that Raphael had some degree of PTSD. Considering what he and his brothers had gone through she wouldn't be surprised.

She wondered if Leonardo was aware of this and knowing of Raphael's reticent nature, suspected that Raphael had somehow managed to keep his 'episodes' hidden from his brothers.

She contemplated telling her sister about his nearly violent episode and to warn her away from Raphael, but quickly rejected this idea.

At the moment Elizabeth was not pursuing Raphael or allowing him to pursue her. If Catherine opened her big mouth and said she did not want Elizabeth and Raphael to be together then she might as well paint a neon sign above Raphael's head saying _'Dangerous, mysterious AND broken'_, which for some stupid reason, would make him all the more irresistible to her trouble seeking sister.

Of course she couldn't let Raphael continue on as he was. She decided that she would have no choice but to say something to Leonardo, because if she confronted Raphael she would have no doubt that he would deny that anything had happened.

The real problem however was the fact that Raphael –big, strong, cocksure, egotistical, sarcastic ass that he was- had unwittingly shown her the crack in his armour. He had been vulnerable for a minute and she liked him a little better for it.

Sighing she slid from the bike, no closer to coming to any sort of consensus or decision regarding Raphael, and walked into the house.

She finally found her sister ensconced in the living room. There had been a steady clicking noise that Catherine knew boded ill for her sister's night.

Feeling her heart plummet and a dark gloom fall over her, she took a deep breath and entered the room, leaning up against the doorframe and crossing her arms over her chest as she watched as her sister sat on the couch knitting.

Knitting for Elizabeth was both a soothing and nervous hobby, and Catherine could tell her sister's mood just by the pace and force of the needles.

"That bad, huh?" she asked, her sister's needles not even pausing for a moment as she looked up.

"A cat for Cat," her sister said, not answering her question, but instead holding up a partially finished knitted black hood that had cat ears. Eventually the hood would become a scoodie, having long sides that could act like a scarf or she could put her hands in the 'paws' at the ends and use them like mitts.

Catherine smiled but the smile did not reach her eyes; she felt too raw, sad almost. "So how mad was he?" she asked, not even bothering to ask her if Leonardo had figured out that her sister was impersonating her, she already knew that he had.

"Furious," Elizabeth answered as she began knitting again.

Catherine gave a resigned nod.

"I've never seen him so angry," Elizabeth observed. "It was infuriating and so… hot!"

Catherine blinked in shock. "What?" she asked stupidly, believing that her ears were deceiving her.

"He was fine at the opera-"

"He took you to the opera?" she interrupted momentarily distracted from her sister's comment.

"Turandot. Actually pretty cool, especially the view Leo got us."

Catherine felt a pang of regret at having missed the performance.

Elizabeth continued. "And then I took him to the Wall and I think that's where I blew it."

"You went where?" she asked in a hollow voice.

"The Wall. And he kinda…I don't know. Did you know about that flinching thing that he does if you touch him?"

"Yes." Catherine said with a sigh as she walked into the room and sat beside her sister on the couch.

Elizabeth placed the hat on Catherine's head as if checking to see if it would fit. "I poked him a few times with my finger, I couldn't help it."

"You poked him, purposefully, to see if he would flinch?" Catherine asked incredulously. "Like he was the Pillsbury doughboy?"

Elizabeth gave her a slow blink before smiling. "I should have totally done that. Could you imagine his face? Especially if I had made the noise" Elizabeth pantomimed poking Leonardo in the stomach and making the 'hoo hoo!' sound. "I am totally going to do that the next time I see him," she murmured.

Sighing Catherine said, "El, there probably isn't going to _be_ a next time."

This wiped the smile from Elizabeth's face as her sister turned oddly serious. "I'm sorry, Cat."

"It isn't your fault, El, it's mine. I agreed to the plan so I need to take responsibility for it."

"Yeah, but I suggested the idea," Elizabeth protested. "And I did try to tell him why I had gone in your place."

Catherine winced. "What did he say?"

"I think he was too angry to talk." Elizabeth replied truthfully. "But if he can't accept the fact that it's his hang-ups that drove you to do something like this, then that is his problem."

Her sister's words were meant to be helpful, but they did not have the desired effect. They both fell into a morose silence for a few minutes before Elizabeth spoke again.

"I think tonight was good for him."

Catherine raised a dark eye brow in question.

"I'm serious. He's wound so tight he's like a spring that is going to be sprung, whether he wants to be or not."

Catherine nodded, agreeing wither her sister's observation, but was not sure how pushing Leonardo until he snapped would be beneficial for him. "Regardless of that, he's never going to forgive me."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not, but I think he had fun. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he was smiling for most of the night."

Catherine gave weight to her sister's words as she adjusted the hood on her head, making sure the ears were standing up straight.

"You know what Leo needs?" Elizabeth sat up her face contemplative.

"An apology?"

Her sister blinked. "Well...that too," she agreed. "But what he really needs, is to get laid."

Catherine felt her mouth fall open a little as she tried to figure out if her sister was serious, or if she was just trying to get a reaction out of her.

"I'm serious, he's so pent up and tense. I say that half of it's just sexual frustration. And with the whole touching thing, he just needs to be touched a hell of a lot more, all over, with no clothes on."

Closing her mouth with a snap she stared at her sister for a moment before answering. "I...don't even know what to say."

Pulling the hood from her head her sister took the hood back and began knitting again as she thought. Her needles furiously clacking together as her sister looked at her with speculation. "Have you actually thought about getting Leo naked and having your wicked way with him?"

Catherine ran a hand through her hair while blowing out a breath and trying to cover her embarrassment. "Lizzy, besides the fact that I am probably never going to see Leonardo again, or probably any of his family for that matter, I have been too busy trying to get a _date_ out of him. I hadn't really thought that far ahead," she finished truthfully.

"I wonder what they look like naked."

"Lizzy…" she groaned as she covered her eyes with her hands.

But even as she tried to turn her mind away from the subject of the brothers being naked, her mind still toyed with the thought; picking it up, turning it this way and that and studying it intently.

Of course her imagination could not fill in the necessary details because she had never seen any of the brother's unclothed. She knew that corded muscle ran along every inch of their bodies not covered in hard keratin, but she didn't know exactly how much of their plastrons covered their torsos, or just how far down their carapace's went. All she knew for sure was that they didn't have tails, which meant that she had to assume that what was under their pants was more human than turtle.

Catherine shook her head at where her thoughts had wandered. "Moot point anyway," she said dragging her hands from her eyes. She stood and stretched.

"You never know, Kitty. Leo might forgive you."

She shrugged, not even bristling at her sister's use of her nickname, since she had called her sister 'Lizzy' more than enough times. "I guess the only thing I can be happy about at the moment is that you sound like you actually had fun tonight."

Elizabeth chuckled. "And discovered that Leo's totally doable," her sister winked.

"Yes, I think we've established the fact that you think Leo is hot when he's angry." She paused for a moment. "Speaking of angry, I ran into Raphael tonight."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked clearly surprised.

"Yeah, he thought I was you, I didn't correct him. Anyway we batted a few balls around and he tried to get a date. He's interested in you, El, and I tried to tell him that you didn't want anything serious right now. I finally told him that you guys were just going to keep things the way they are right now and see where that goes."

"He's persistent, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," Catherine grumbled.

"I don't know whether to be flattered or freaked out," Elizabeth said with a chuckle.

Catherine gave a shrug, deciding not to mention anything more about the night, Raphael's mysterious 'episode', or the fact that after he had hit the 75 mile and hour ball he had wanted nothing more than to get as far away from her as he could. For all she knew Raphael had figured out that she was really Catherine and had been furious.

"I'm going to go give Leonardo a call. See if he'll even talk to me," she mumbled morosely; dread curling up in the pit of her stomach, nearly making her nauseous with trepidation.

"Good luck," her sister offered up as Catherine walked towards the door.

"Oh, I need your SUV tomorrow."

Catherine froze. "Why?" she asked her sister over her shoulder.

"Sabrina and I are going to scout out a few spots and take some pictures. We need the extra room for all of her equipment. And you promised that you were going to help out. Shoot is in the morning, if you need to get back before dinner, you can bring my bike and ride it back."

Truthfully she had completely forgotten about her sister's friend's Alice in Wonderland themed photo shoot. Her sister had asked her about it over a month ago because Sabrina needed models, and she had reluctantly agreed to help out.

Modeling wasn't really her thing but in return for doing the modeling, Elizabeth's friend was going to take pictures of Elizabeth's scoodie creations, which her sister sold for some extra money in the comic shop she worked at.

"But I refuse to be dressed up as Tweedledee or Tweedledum just because we're twins."

Elizabeth laughed, but didn't offer any assurances that this wouldn't be the case. "Sabrina might want you to do something with your hair though."

Catherine narrowed her eyes. "Like what?"

"No idea."

Catherine let out a reluctant breath. "We'll see," she answered.

Elizabeth nodded. "Oh, and I put the new Harbinger comic on the counter for Mikey."

Catherine nodded. "I'll give it to him if I can. I guess it will depend on if Leonardo still lets his brothers see us, or if he's going to just sever all contact with us."

"Leo's brothers are adults; Leo can't tell them who they can hang out with. And if he does then he is an ass."

Catherine gave a shrug, silently agreeing with her sister. She had to admit that Leonardo could be heavy handed at times, but she knew it was because he was trying to protect his family.

Leaving her sister to continue with her knitting, she made her way to the upper floor. She grabbed the house phone from the cradle and wandered back and forth down the hallway as she gathered up enough courage to dial Leonardo's number.

She passed by her workroom and walked over to her art table. A large poster board was sitting at a forty-five degree angle; pens of various widths and colours littered the area. She looked at the woman she had drawn. A sword hung loosely in one hand, a swath of red paint had been dragged across her eyes; white hair whipping strategically around her battered body as she reached out for something.

Catherine sat down on her work chair and took a deep, shaking breath before she dialled Leonardo's number, palms sweating and heart unsteady as she waited for him to answer…_if_ he would answer.

* * *

**Bum, bum bummmmm**

**guess we will have to see what Leo thinks in the next chapter:D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey all, another update:)**

**So I would like to thank my lovely reviewers for all of their support! A giant thank you to rinpup14, Ougi-san, Diana Fay, SleepingSeeker, CrazyGeekyLove, Kimmie98 and Sika, you guys are awesome!**

**And now on with the chapter:) I hope everyone enjoys:)**

* * *

Chapter 9

**Leonardo** leaned back in the kitchen chair he sat upon. He looked down at the _sakazuki _he held in his hand, filled to the brim with _sake_. He gave it a swirl before drinking the contents down in one swift gulp. He flicked a glance to the ceramic _tokkuri _and knew he shouldn't have anymore. He didn't normally drink and even though he felt like he needed more of the alcohol to somehow dim the thoughts and images that gallivanted around in his mind, he knew that sitting at his kitchen table and drinking alone was not a prudent or healthy thing to do. Though apparently being prudent or healthy was not something he was willing to entertain at the moment because he reached forward and poured more sake into the shallow dish.

He had never understood when -in movies and on TV- men would sit alone at a bar drinking to the point of inebriation in order to drown their confusion and troubles in alcohol because of a woman. The only woman he had ever dealt with on a constant and friendly basis had been April. She was their friend and she never confused him or troubled him in any way. But he supposed it was because April was only a friend and this was where the difference lay.

Catherine and Elizabeth were his friends, but...not.

And now he understood where these men were coming from, and there was part of him that wished he didn't. He wanted to wash all thoughts of Catherine and Elizabeth from his mind, but he had learned that he couldn't, because he had tried and failed. He had been trying since the moment he met both of them to purge them from his thoughts and if he would allow himself to admit it, his heart. He cared about them and therein lay the rub. They weren't mere acquaintances no matter how hard he had tried to keep them that way, and they had both managed to worm their way into his life.

He drank the sake down and placed the dish upon the table.

He was unsure what to feel at the moment. So many emotions had rode and coursed through him that he actually felt numb at the moment; or perhaps that was just the effects of the alcohol.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift over the events of the night.

Things had been going well. He wasn't sure if he would enjoy the opera but he had. He should have taken her home after the Opera had finished, but instead he had allowed her to drag him into a seedy and dangerous part of town which had placed all of his senses on high alert; his body automatically tensing because it was dark, crime ridden, secluded, frequented by gangs and other low lifes, and the perfect place to be attacked.

He had become so tense and paranoid that he had flinched at the light touch that she had given him. She had tested him again, and receiving the same flinching reaction to her touch, had smoothly told him that he 'needed to get that fixed'; as if he could just turn off over ten years worth of abuse and violence that had been leveled upon himself and his brothers by humans.

He had been infuriated and insulted, and then she had backed away, an unconcerned expression filling her face, and it was then that the suspicion had entered his mind that the woman who stood in front of him was Elizabeth and not Catherine.

Like a punch to his gut, he felt winded and consumed by tiny prickles of betrayal and anger which had swirled together into a torrent of mixed feelings and emotions.

His mind struggled with this development upon realizing that for some reason Catherine had sent her sister to impersonate her.

While he struggled with this hurtful, devastating revelation, an object had been thrown at his head. He had caught it easily and stared at the can of spay paint as if he had never seen such a thing before.

He then watched as she drew a thick black line upon the white wall and he had felt his legs moving of their own accord. He angrily snatched at her hand ignoring the almost electric jolt that shot through him at the contact of his flesh against hers.

If he had any doubts that it was Elizabeth before him rather than Catherine, they had been thoroughly squashed, because Catherine would never vandalize a wall.

"What are you doing?" he had snarled, fury nearly making his words unintelligible.

She shook off his hand, her expressive face a parade of emotions ranging from irritation, uneasiness, panic and determination before finally settling upon a defensive calm. She explained the purpose of the wall, and he had listened, but it was as if he was hearing everything from far away, or perhaps his mind was still struggling to come to grips with Catherine's deception.

He watched as Elizabeth covered the wall with paint, his mind trying to catch up and make sense of what was going on. Anger still simmered below the surface as he wondered why Catherine had chosen to deceive him. Everything he knew about her rebelled at such a deception, and yet here he was with the Siren, not the Fairy Queen.

He thought back to his conversation with Catherine earlier that night. Her tone had been calm and even, but there had been an unrecognizable note of something in her voice that he had been unable to identify, and this inflection had given him pause; believing that at any moment she was going to cancel on him.

Fear had shot through his heart and he had raised his defensive shields, knowing that he was being an idiot and that he should never have given the invitation in the first place. He shouldn't want to have her in his life because his life was dangerous and filled with enemies that could use her to exact a means of manipulation or revenge against himself and his brothers.

Words had quickly tumbled from her mouth as she expressed her want of seeing him and he could not help the smile and the warm glow of pleasure that had suffused his heart; and he had given into weakness and told her he would see her in an hour.

Palms sweating, heart unsure, and feeling naked without his beloved katana blades strapped to his carapace, he had gone to meet Catherine who was late...

Eyes narrowing in fury he studied Elizabeth's back, knowing that she would have the answers he needed. Just as he was about to ask her why she was in her sister's place, Elizabeth stepped away from the wall and his breath caught in his throat driving away all ability to speak.

He stared at the mural in rapt fascination. They hadn't been in the alleyway for more than ten, twenty minutes at most, and yet she had managed to coax a masterpiece out of a few different colours of paint that made him feel vulnerable and oddly exposed. She hadn't painted a random image or a doodle, but rather, the image had been painted for him; something that would resonate within him and touch him deep down within the very deepest part of his heart and soul.

He was so moved that he had barely heard Elizabeth when she asked him if he could write kanji.

He had complied, too stunned and overwhelmed to do anything else. He heard what she wanted him to write and felt that the words were beautiful, poignant and added another layer of depth and meaning to the mural.

While Elizabeth took a picture with her cell phone he fought with himself. He wondered if it was Elizabeth or Catherine who stood beside him, because his confidence in his earlier belief was now shaken to the very core.

There had been a shout from the mouth of the alley and her next words had him confirming his earlier suspicions. He was with Elizabeth, he knew he was; his fury resurfacing because she had lied to him about being able to paint on the wall. He accused her of this and she easily supplied him with an excuse which he unfortunately believed.

Dragging her to the rooftops he found that he was having problems controlling his anger, his breathing, his heartbeat and his emotions. He was in a flurry of turmoil and having her pressed up against his plastron was not helping. He could feel the warmth of her curvaceous body burning its way through his clothing, and what little control he had left was beginning to slip. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself he realized that this action was a mistake. Dark, smoky incense mixed with a very faint waft of flowers and spray paint taunted his senses and clouded his mind.

Her wide green eyes stared up at him, her luscious, cupids bow lips -parted slightly in surprise- were so close to his own that if he had wanted, he could have leaned down and kissed her. He froze not daring to even breathe because he was scared that he was going to do something stupid, reckless or violent. He knew he would never commit a violent act upon a woman, especially an innocent one, but right now he wanted to shake her. He himself was almost shaking with rage and yet at the same time his body was on fire and he was so very tempted to quell that blaze by smothering it with her lips and her body. The problem was that he didn't know which sister was in front of him and the animal part of his brain could care less. It only wanted to rub its scent all over her and satisfy its hunger; answering the flash of desire he saw spark in her eyes.

She stepped away and he could breathe again. And even though his body screamed with disappointment and frustration, he was grateful that she had, because he wasn't sure what he would have done if she had have remained in his arms for any longer.

He tried to get himself under control, but seemed to be having problems accomplishing this. He still felt overly warm and his heart still hammered uncomfortably in his chest. He was angry with himself and with the woman in front of him because she had managed to erode -within a matter of a few moments- all of his perfectly crafted control and was only too aware of the fact that they were so very alone.

Added to this was his renewed uncertainty over her identity because when she broke the heavy silence that had fallen between them her words were soft, and so very serious; which were things that Elizabeth was not. As far as Leonardo had been able to ascertain, Elizabeth did not have a serious bone in her body; was loud, talked a great deal either languidly or with excitement or fury, and was usually flippant bordering on sarcastic in regards to everything.

Which again made him doubt his earlier assertion that it was Elizabeth and not Catherine who stood on the rooftop with him.

He looked away because he could tell she was watching him, her face somber, uncertain and frustrated all at the same time. He did take note of her words and could admit that her advice in regards to his brothers was sound. He knew it was, and knowing this and knowing that he was unable to let go, to let his brothers just make their own mistakes, was oddly depressing and angering.

Her words about being an older sibling caught his attention and he again wondered if it really was Catherine.

Breathing uneven and with every muscle in his body pulled taunt, his emotions were raw and he felt both confused and overwhelmed.

The problem was that he couldn't ask her if she was Elizabeth, because if he was with Catherine, then it was an insult to her, because he should be able to tell the two women apart; and he could, under normal circumstances. Usually he was in the company of both women at the same time and there was no problem distinguishing them by both appearance and personality. But separated as they were at the moment he found that it was possible that either the two sisters were not as different as he had first thought, or Elizabeth was doing an impression of her sister that was spotty at best.

She tried dispelling the somber mood that had fallen over them both and attempted to lighten it by claiming that she knew the best pizza place in town. He had raised an eye ridge, an angry frown still pulling down the corners of his mouth.

Her voice was smooth, challenging, and almost daring him to disagree with her. Looking away from her intense eyes, he found himself drawn back, accepting the challenge because he needed more time to figure out which sister stood in front of him. _And_ -he acknowledged bitterly to himself- _I can't ever seem to back away from a challenge leveled by flashing, tempting moss green eyes._

And the pizza place had been very good, almost on par with his own, but his pizza place had been just that tiny bit better, and she had moaned with pleasure at each bite, telling him that his pizza parlour was by far superior and he was hands down the winner, which for some reason had pleased him immensely.

They had talked about this and that, Leonardo trying to glean one tiny morsel of information that would give him a clue as to the identity of the woman who walked next to him. The temptation to rip the hat off her head just to see if it would be luxurious raven's wing tresses or beautiful golden curls was nearly overwhelming, so much so that his fingers itched to put thought into action. But he had resisted, relaxing as he began to forget that he had a purpose for continuing on with the evening and had begun to just enjoy himself; smiling at her teasing words and impressed with her astute and witty observations.

This brought his mind back to the end of the evening as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the stairs that led up to the front door of her house.

He had noticed that Elizabeth's motorcycle was not parked on the street, and he had wondered if Catherine could ride the motorrcycle.

She had then thanked him for the night and he knew he should say something or perhaps 'accidently' bump the hat from her head, but then she had kissed him lightly on the cheek and heat, awareness, confusion and embarrassment infused his body leaving him stunned and speechless.

She managed to make it to her front door before he found his voice again and made a choice; going with gut instinct, almost hoping that she didn't hear his words in case he was wrong. "Goodnight, Elizabeth," he said softly.

Her back stiffened and for a moment fear shot through him that he had made a mistake. She slowly turned, eyes wide with shock before a smile spread across her face and she bowed, doffing her hat with a flourish -much like the opera performers they had witnessed earlier in the night- and let her short, straight, black hair fall forward.

"Leo," she acknowledged with a smirk, eyes filled with admiration as if somehow pleased with him for being able to see through her deception.

He stared at her for a moment, stunned that he had been right. Suddenly all of the emotions he had felt earlier in the evening came crashing back into him; anger, betrayal, hurt, embarrassment, confusion, all twisting and writhing inside of him, each battling for dominance.

She turned away from him and placed her hand upon the door handle. He wanted to say something, fury almost locking his jaw shut, but he managed to get out, "Catherine-"

"-wanted to be out with you tonight," she interrupted, looking over her shoulder at him. "But she had to work late. And she would have told you this if your ego wasn't so fragile, and if you would actually let yourself entertain the possibility that you can date a human woman." She turned to fully face him. "You're important enough to my sister that she actually agreed to my ridiculous offer to impersonate her. I was only joking but she agreed to the plan because she knew that if she cancelled on you, you would never ask her out again, even though it wasn't even a date. So chew on that for a bit," she finished fiercely.

Leonardo heard her words but couldn't seem to acknowledge them as they seemed to be coming from far too away. And besides, he was too angry to entertain any excuses Elizabeth gave for her sister anyway.

"And you know what?" Elizabeth's tone lost its edge, softening but still defiant. "I'm glad my sister had to work late because if she hadn't I would never have gone out with you tonight and I am glad I did. I had written you off as uptight and boring, and you are uptight and repressed, but you aren't boring, and I finally get what my sister sees in you."

She turned away, unlocking her front door, pulling in open but pausing before she stepped over the threshold. "And if you think that the controlled, disapproving, furious, look you are giving me is doing anything other than making me want to drag you up these steps and into the house, slam you against the wall, tear your clothes off, and do things to you that would make you scream," she paused sending him a heated glance over her shoulder that should have incinerated him on the spot along with everything that was encompassed within her gaze, "then you are sadly mistaken." She entered her house, closing the door behind her without even glancing back to see what effect -if any- her words had on him.

Leonardo wasn't sure how long he stood in front of the house staring at the door as if it would give him an answer as to what had just happened. He felt hot, cold, furious, frustrated and turned on because the picture she had painted with her words left him weak in the knees and aching with need, which only made him somehow angrier.

Finally pulling himself together he ran home, hoping the wind and the exertion would both cool his heated blood and body as well as tire him out enough to give him some perspective on the evening.

Getting back to the lair he felt exhausted, both mentally and physically, but somehow on edge and still lacking in perspective. He walked to the kitchen intent on making himself some tea. He felt as if his nerves needed to be settled, but when he opened the cupboard door he had encountered a _tokkuri _of saki tucked in behind the tea and cereal. He reached past the tea and took up the _tokkuri_.

Looking at his empty _sakazuki, _he pushed it away from him and the temptation to drink more, because the amount of _sake_ he had consumed didn't seem to be helping sort through any of his feelings or took a deep breath and was determined to shove both women from his mind, because that was the safest place for them to be.

He stood and made his way a little unsteadily from the kitchen, intent on going to bed when he heard the rumble of a motorcycle entering the garage. He realized then that he had been so preoccupied that he hadn't even noticed that none of his brothers had accosted him when he had come home.

Cold fear gripped his heart.

He knew Raphael had just come home, but he had no idea where Donatello and Michelangelo were. He ran to Donatello's lab and found both of his younger brothers there. Donatello was asleep on his keyboard and Michelangelo was softly snoring on a cot, headphones covering his ears, a comic book laying on his bare plastron.

Relief washed through him at finding his brothers safe and sound.

He then admitted to himself that couldn't let go; could never stop being the hovering, over protective older brother because the mistakes his brothers could make may possibly cost them their lives.

He reached over and pulled the headphones from Michelangelo's ears, turned off the mp3 player took the comic from his chest. Leonardo read the title 'Harbinger', which was written in blood red lettering scrawled across the top. He had noticed that Michelangelo seemed to be obsessed with the new comic series, and had placed it right up there along with his love of the Silver Sentry. He closed the book and placed it upon the work table.

Leaving his younger sibling to wake up on their own he turned and slowly walked from the lab, the alcohol beginning to rob him of his ability to walk in a straight line. He swore inwardly for obviously drinking too much, and cursed the two women who had driven him to this.

As he exited the lab he almost ran straight into Raphael who looked as if he was in a foul mood. Raphael threw his helmet across the room and Leonardo altered his course so he could completely avoid his brother.

Normally he would be confronting Raphael and berating him for his temper and for not letting him know that he had planned to go out for the evening, but he didn't want to deal with his hot tempered brother at the moment. He did not need Raphael to see him like this, and he was not in any mood to discuss what had happened tonight.

He then changed his mind, deciding that he needed to talk to Raphael. He needed the normality of it because at the moment, he felt as if his world had been turned slightly on its head, and Raphael wasn't anything if not predictable.

Raphael noticed him, his eyes narrowing into golden slits of rage, and Leonardo had the distinct impression that Raphael's rage was somehow centered upon him.

Leonardo swallowed, hot prickles of adrenalin rushing through him as he realized with horror that Raphael may have somehow seen that he had gone out with Elizabeth and not Catherine, and if his brother had heard any of the words that Elizabeth had said to him, especially the last ones -which he tried not to think about because he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about them- then Raphael would be furious.

"Raph," he began before his brother decided to hit first and ask questions later, but Raphael interrupted his words.

"Did you enjoy your _date_?" his voice was a snarl.

Leonardo felt himself bristling. "It wasn't a date," he shot back defensively. He had not taken Elizabeth out on a date, and his brother needed to understand that. But as usual his red masked brother never let him get a word in edgewise.

"Bullshit! It was a date," Raphael disagreed furiously.

"Raph!" he tried to get his brother to listen to him. "It wasn't a date," he reiterated. "I-"

"Yeah, right, whatever." Raphael waved his hand angrily as he paced back and forth. "You just keep tellin' yourself that if it makes you feel better."

Grinding his teeth together in irritation Leonardo balled his hands into fists. His emotional stability at the moment was nonexistent and he just didn't have enough reserves of control left to deal with Raphael.

He should have just avoided Raphael because even though Raphael was acting exactly like Raphael, his red masked brother never ceased to infuriate him.

"Of course it makes me feel better!" Leonardo protested with a growl of irritation, but acknowledged that the last thing he needed was Raphael thinking he had decided to go for Elizabeth instead of Catherine when that wasn't the case at all. "Listen, Raph, I have no idea what you saw-"

Raphael's beak wrinkled in disgust. "I wasn't spyin' on you," he interrupted quickly, the thought apparently abhorrent to him. "Like I give a shit about what you did on your date tonight. Although with the smell comin' off you, you've been hittin' the bottle hard."

Leonardo snapped his mouth shut at his brother's words. He had no idea why his brother was so angry, but he didn't need to fan the flames of his brother's anger by telling Raphael that he had been out with Elizabeth all night. An even worse idea would be to tell Raphael that she had been...flirting wasn't the right word -he had no idea what Elizabeth had been- and he had no one to talk to about it to clarify what her parting words actually meant or if they even _meant _anything.

"Was your date that bad?" Raphael asked with vicious curiosity, eyes still smouldering with anger.

Leonardo actually contemplated his brother's question. Besides the emotional upheavals he had suffered and was still suffering, it hadn't been a bad evening and he would have to admit that he had even enjoyed parts of it.

"No," he offered up. No details, just that it hadn't been bad. Because acknowledging that he had enjoyed Elizabeth's company was a fact that he didn't want to examine too closely.

Raphael's eye ridges rose before his eyes narrowed in speculation. He opened his mouth and hesitated, almost as if he was changing his mind about what he was going to say. Raphael snapped his mouth shut opting for silence as he began to pace back and forth, with each step his fury and agitation seeming to increase.

"I'm goin' to Casey's," Raphael suddenly said.

"Raph, it's after midnight!" Leonardo protested.

"So?" Raphael walked over to his helmet, picked it up and dragged it onto his head.

"You aren't going anywhere," Leonardo reiterated shaking his head as he strode up to his brother and grabbed his shoulder, hauling him back around.

"You shouldn't have been out in the first place," he growled at his brother. "At least not without telling me."

"You ain't my father, Leo. I don't need to get your permission to go out," Raphael snarled back.

"It's not permission I want, I just want to know where you are," he protested in irritation. "Did you even tell Mikey or Donny that you were leaving?" Leonardo asked, voice full of accusation. Raphael's silence was enough confirmation for him to know that Raphael had just left without telling anyone.

Leonardo's own anger rose to the surface at his brother's recklessness. "Raphael-"

"Don't you DARE 'Raphael' me," he hissed furiously.

Leonardo looked away from his brother's golden eyes. There was pain, fury, hurt and confusion all rolling around together. He clamped down on his anger because if he said what he was about to say, he knew he would regret it with every fibre of his being.

"Why don't you just talk to me, Raph?" he pleaded gently.

But his brother seemed to sense what he had been about to say and his anger turned to rage. "Fuck you, Leo," Raphael snarled lowly, pulling away from Leonardo's grip and striding away.

Stunned and hurt by the virulence of Raphael's words Leonardo's hand dropped to his side. He dragged his hands down his face before walking slowly towards the stairs, climbing them and entering his room.

He wished his brother would just talk to him, let him know what was going on. Raphael had never been one to share his thoughts and feelings but ever since...his mind skittered away from that memory as if it had teeth and claws that could rend, maim and devour; and it did. It was still painful -even all these years later- like a wound that had never healed properly. And even though he knew that Raphael had recovered and moved on, Leonardo couldn't quite allow himself to do the same.

He dragged his fingers down his face again, wondering if there was any way he could possibly reach his younger brother, and knew that he couldn't. He had tried for years to get Raphael to open up about what had happened to him, about what he had suffered after they had rescued him, but to no avail. He had hoped that if he just left Raphael to his own devices that maybe he would come to him, but he never had. And after a while they had begun to pretend that it had never happened, and by then talking about it would be like ripping a scab off an old wound and forcing it to bleed and heal all over again, and even Leonardo could admit that this was not only counterproductive, but cruel.

Of course Leonardo was unsure what had actually caused Raphael to get so worked up tonight in the first place. It probably had nothing to do with anything that happened over four years ago. After all, the nightmares had stopped and so had the instances where Raphael would fall into a memory so real and vivid, it was like he was relieving the torture all over again.

He had been worried that when Raphael had come home eight months ago with a knife wound to his side that he would suffer a relapse, but Raphael had seemed fine, and so Leonardo hadn't brought it up.

Leonardo heard Raphael's motorcycle peeling out of the lair and he felt his muscles bunch and tighten, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep until his brother returned safe and sound.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out Catherine's name appeared on the lit screen. His mouth went dry and his hand began to shake. He wondered if he should answer it, or not. He felt raw and he didn't know if he wanted to talk to Catherine right now.

Glancing over at the clock he saw that it was closer to one than midnight. Indecision warred within him as he finally hit 'talk'. He wasn't a coward and if he got things sorted out with Catherine, for good or bad, then he would have at least have one less thing to worry about.

"Hello, Catherine, or is this Elizabeth?" he asked smoothly, not giving away what his emotional state was, though he had to admit to himself that he actually sounded angry.

He continued to lay on his bed as Catherine's gentle voice remained calm, the inflection of her speech both sincere and apologetic. She explained everything from having to work late to Elizabeth's suggestion of going in her place, to her belief that he would never go out with her again if she tried to reschedule.

She had explained that even if he had not seen through Elizabeth's charade that she would have told him about the deception anyway because she couldn't lie to him and she felt too guilty to let him believe that they had been together when they hadn't. She asked for forgiveness, apologized and told him she would understand if he never wanted to see her again.

She was about to hang up the phone, leaving him to decide on his own what he wanted to do. He knew that this was the perfect opportunity to eject her and her troublesome sister from his life. A few words to Raphael would have him falling in line if he told his red masked brother about the sisters' ruse and Elizabeth's suggestive words, but for some reason his heart actually hurt at the thought of never seeing either of them again. His mouth opened and he said, "It's okay." Before she was able to hang up.

"Really?" she asked, clearly shocked."Why?"

He almost smiled, 'why' was a good question. "Sometimes I need to be protected from myself," he admitted begrudgingly, because apparently he was insane and a glutton for punishment. So many reasons and opportunities had presented themselves for him to break all contact with the two women, and yet he continued to ignore all good reason and logical sense.

"Although...I'm glad that you went out with El tonight," Catherine mused. "It sounds like you made quite the impression."

A blush spread across his cheeks and he wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to ask her about Elizabeth's words and what they meant, but wasn't sure if he should. Instead he made an vaguely affirmative noise.

She chuckled before her voice turned serious. "Thank you, Leonardo, for understanding, and for enjoying the evening with my sister. She actually had a good time,_ and_ didn't get into any trouble."

He smiled ruefully. "Goodnight, Catherine."

"Goodnight, Leonardo."

"G'night, Leo."

Leonardo sat bolt up in his bed, heart pounding in his chest at the second voice.

"Lizzy, I swear I am going to kill you," Catherine hissed.

Her sister chuckled. "Hey, I was just checking to see if Leo was going to be a douche, and he wasn't. So, congrats, Leo."

"Uh...thanks?" he offered in a small, bewildered voice.

"Get. Off. The. Phone." Catherine intoned with forceful calm.

"Hey, Leo, if you ever get bored, feel free to stop by."

"Lizzy, stop flirting," Catherine pleaded with resignation.

Elizabeth laughed. "I would bet money he's blushing right now. And I'm not flirting," she defended. "If I was flirting I would use my 'come hither' voice." Elizabeth's voice suddenly dropped an octave. "Leo, if you're ever...bored or lonely..." her voice trailed off in breathless seduction. "...feel free to drop by. I think I can relieve some of that...tension. See totally diff-" A squeal and a clatter was followed by Catherine's hasty apology, telling him she would talk to him tomorrow before the line went dead.

Leonardo pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it blankly.

_'So, Fearless, you were plannin' on keepin those two all to yourself, huh?'_Raphael's words from four months ago drifted through his head, along with the image of Catherine and Elizabeth standing side by side on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around each other and giving him a look that would make any hot blooded male weak.

He should have listened to his inner voice right there and then, the one which had whispered that the women were both trouble. It wasn't just a coincidence that in his mind he had given the women the monikers of the Fairy and the Siren. Both were beautiful, ethereal, dangerous creatures who offered temptation and pleasure, but brought only doom upon the tempted.

And yet he knew he was already ensnared within the spell they had cast, with no way to break free; and even if he could, he didn't think he would want to.

* * *

**Hmmmm ... I think things are going to get complicated;)**

**Thoughts and opinions are always welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello again!**

**So we finally get to see what is going on in Raph's head. I hope you all enjoy:)**

**A giant thank you to The Nerdfighter, adventuresstime, I love Kittens Too, rinpup14, Ougi-san, Diana Fay, CrazyGeekyLove, Kimmie98 and SleepingSeeker for all of your wonderful reviews! You guys are so awesome!**

**Also a giant hug and thank you to SleepingSeeker and CrazyGeekyLove for all of the shout outs and amazing feedback and encouragement from you both! I really appreciate it!**

**p.s Raph has a bit of a potty mouth in this chapter and drops the f-bomb a few times, just letting you know;)**

**And now...**

* * *

Chapter 10

**Raphael** was furious. He had known what his brother was about to say, about disobeying him, and that one of the times he had snuck out from the lair...

That was a lecture he had never received when he had finally made it back home; probably because the consequences of his actions had been punishment enough. He shoved these thoughts from his mind because he didn't want to think about them.

Instead he focused on his anger. The problem was he didn't know why he was so angry. No, that was a lie, he knew _why_ he was angry, it was more a matter of too many things had made him angry and he wasn't able to focus upon just one particular anger at the moment; which left him feeling oddly overwhelmed.

Of course the anger wasn't his only problem. Anger had been coupled with jealousy, and frustration, and these emotions had swirled together into a giant ball of thoughts and feelings that he couldn't cope with. This only confused him, made him miserable, and thus even more angry than he already was.

Pulling up outside Casey and April's apartment he noticed that the windows were dark. Raphael pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called his friend. It went to voice mail three times before his friend finally answered the phone.

"Hello?" the words were slurred and thick with sleep.

"You awake? Good. I'm coming up." He hung up not even waiting for a reply before shoving his phone into his pocket and making his way up the fire escape.

He slipped through the unlocked window and encountered Casey in the living room, looking angry and dishevelled from sleep.

"You'd better be dyin'," Casey grumbled as he ran a hand through his long and slightly mussed dark hair.

Raphael stared at his friend and found that he was unable to unclench his jaw enough to actually speak. And even if he could, he didn't know where to begin.

Casey stared at him for a moment and then nodded. "That bad, huh? I'll go get my coat."

Raphael gave a quick nod and climbed back out the window, making his way to the roof and trying to get his thoughts in order.

He paced back and forth as he reviewed his night which hadn't gone at all according to plan. Not that there had actually been a _plan,_ but still...

The night had gone from bad to worse, starting with Elizabeth flat out telling him that they weren't on a date; he had experienced another 'attack' and had come within a hair's breadth of assaulting Elizabeth; he had been completely shut down when he had asked for a date -twice- and finally, had his ass kicked in the batting cage by a lithe, petite woman who had driven him insane, in more ways than one.

He stopped pacing and took in a deep breath of chilly night air, hoping it would cool both his temper and his body, which seemed uncomfortably warm.

He had been thwarted, outwitted, outmaneuvered and outplayed by Elizabeth. If he hadn't known better he would have sworn that he had spent the evening with Catherine.

Watching Elizabeth hit the ball was probably the most impressive and gracefully beautiful thing he had seen in a long while. She had shucked her coat and wore a form fitting black t-shirt underneath. Hips swaying as she swung the bat back and forth she focused her attention upon the pitching machine before correcting her stance, body pulling taunt she swung the bat, the ball never standing a chance as she annihilated it.

And it was hot; so, so very hot.

He appreciated her ability as well as the way every curve of her toned body was accentuated by the quick movements she performed. Unfortunately it also had the adverse effect of pissing him off because she was so much better than he was.

After a few rounds she walked from the cage allowing him to attempt the pitching machine again, and even though he knew she wasn't taunting him, her 'helpful' suggestions had made him furious.

Competition had been fired within his breast and he had been determined to hit the ball, even if it took him all damn night or killed him, whichever came first. But no matter how many times he tried, he had absolutely no success.

Panting and muscles weak with exertion he had finally given into her assertions that she could 'help' him. Deciding to get back at her and accepting her offer, he fully intended to wipe the smug, laughing smile from her face when he kicked her ass.

He wondered briefly if he had sounded as patronizing as she had when offering to 'help', and he was pretty sure he had and that she was now mocking him.

He had then smiled to himself when he realized that she wasn't about to shout orders at him or get him to mimic her, but rather, she was going to get up close and personal with him. He almost palm slapped his forehead for being so thick. She wanted to 'help' him, which meant she intended to flirt with him.

Suddenly the whole night was not going to turn out to be so bad. He was imagining in his mind that she was going to slightly 'adjust' his arms, running her hands along his biceps, and being impressed with how strong he was; only she hadn't come up towards him to 'adjust' his arms. Instead he had watched her as she reached out towards his thigh, telling him that his stance was wrong.

Heat burned a trail across his leg as her fingers slid across his thigh pulling his leg back ever so slightly. His mouth went completely dry and he had to force himself not to flinch and pull away when her hands spread out to either side of his carapace and twisted his torso just a little more.

He almost dropped the bat that he held in his hands as her fingers moved his arms, shifting both his grip upon the bat and the position of his arms; raising them up higher.

He stopped breathing completely, afraid to even move. She was looking over his arms again shifting back his shoulders her face so close to his own that he could smell the sweet flowery scent of her body, mixed with the scent of leather and something very faint, almost smoky like incense.

Heart beating almost painfully in his chest he was powerless to do anything because he felt nearly blind with panic and terror.

Elizabeth had stepped back observing her handiwork, her face not at all flirtatious, but serious and speculative. She had no idea what her touch had just done to him because she was being true to her words and was actually trying to help him with his swing.

She stepped forward again and he swore he was going to flinch, but he didn't move as she grabbed either side of his head, gently turning his face towards the pitching machine.

"The ball comes out of there," her words had been soft and contained a hint of amusement, but he wasn't laughing because his body and mind were fighting a vicious and bloodthirsty battle with each other.

Terror gripped his heart as the actual ramifications of a relationship hit him; his body on the other hand didn't give a shit what his mind was screaming about because it was too damn busy burning from the outside inwards; a incendiary flame of lust and aching need tearing through him and robbing him of any and all ability to think, reason or act.

His lungs screamed for air and he managed to drag in one deep, shuddering breath after another.

Closing his eyes he blocked everything out, ignoring Elizabeth's soft scent. His eyes snapped open as the ball shot out from the pitching machine and he moved the bat connecting with the ball with such force and speed that the stitches on the ball actually burst.

"Wow," Elizabeth breathed out, clearly impressed. "Now THAT is something to brag about. See and you didn't think I could help," she teased.

But he had barely heard her teasing words, heart gripped with fear and uncertainty which only made him furious with himself and with her.

He had said something infuriatingly cocky and he couldn't even remember what he said, but whatever it was she had smirked and rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exasperation.

They had left shortly after, Elizabeth taking the equipment and putting it away while he waited for her outside, silently fuming. He had stewed all the way to the Brownstone, leaving her before she even had time to take off her helmet, telling her he would 'catch her later'.

Raphael looked over his shoulder as he saw Casey appear on the roof, which dragged his thoughts back to the present.

He stopped pacing only long enough to take the proffered beer, crack the can open, and take a swig before he began pacing again.

Casey watched him pace back and forth not saying anything, just waiting until Raphael decided he was ready to talk. That's what he liked about Casey, he never pushed, never questioned, just let him do his own thing until he was good and ready to talk, _if _he even decided to talk.

"There's this girl," he began finally coming to a halt and looking out over the city skyline, the downtown core lit up brightly in the far distance.

"This one of these sisters you said you met a while back?" Casey asked coming to stand beside him.

"Yeah," he agreed as he sat down on the edge of the building, his anger finally regressing from a boil to a slow simmer.

"Are me and April ever gonna meet these chicks?" Casey asked.

"Dunno," he answered truthfully. "Maybe? It isn't like we haven't wanted you guys to meet them, it's just never happened."

"Fine," Casey waved this away. "Back to the chick."

"She completely shut me down," he admitted bitterly.

"Ouch," Casey winced in sympathy.

"Yeah. All I wanted was…and then… And she..." his words weren't even making any sense to him. His thoughts tumbled around him as he remembered the infuriating night. "What the hell was I thinkin'?" he downed the rest of the beer in one gulp, crushed the can and threw it angrily to the street down below.

"Hey, Bro, listen, she don't know what she's missin' out on."

"Yeah, I'm a _real_ fucking prize," he snarled bitterly.

"Raph-"

"Case, I thought _maybe_, you know, for like one brief fucking second, and then you know what happened? I realized that there was no way in _hell_ it was gonna work."

"So it didn't work out with this chick, that don't mean-"

"The hell it doesn't," he interrupted. "I've got nothin', Case. I live in a sewer, I don't have any money, and there ain't no white picket fence or any of that shit in my future. No wonder Leo was sittin' there drinkin himself stupid after his date."

"Leo had a date?"

"I ain't talkin' about Leo," he bit out, furiously. His brother had a woman that actually _wanted _to be with him and the jealousy he felt over this fact was nearly overwhelming.

"I'm a freak, Case, me an' my whole damn family, but at least-" he cut himself off, realizing that his hand had drifted up and across his plastron. He froze slowly pulling his hand away and hoping that his friend hadn't noticed the movement.

"Raph-" Casey's voice was gentle, almost coaxing, indicating that he knew exactly what Raphael was thinking.

Quickly Raphael stood. "-they ain't fucking broken," he finished

Casey stood as Raphael stared down over the ledge, remembering all the times he almost let go; let himself just fall over an edge just like this one, and into blissful oblivion. Those had been dark days; days after his body had healed, but his mind had still been utterly broken and shattered.

But he had pulled through and hadn't had an 'attack' in almost a year. He hadn't had a violent episode in almost two. But apparently he was still messed up.

"You ain't broken," Casey told him fiercely.

He wanted to tell his friend that he was, and how he had almost attacked Elizabeth tonight, but instead said, "Bad enough having to deal with this," he motioned to his face, "but then having to deal with...with this shit," he said as he moved his hand across his torso in disgust. "It's too much."

The fell into silence, Casey obviously searching for something to say, and Raphael feeling oddly drained, tired and just wanting to go home and forget about women in general.

"Chicks dig scars," Casey offered up feebly.

"Scars, sure, bein' disfigured is completely different."

"You aren't disfigured," Casey protested, but Raphael was done talking.

"Whatever," he waved off his friend's comment. "Doesn't matter." He shook his head and smiled almost ruefully. "I mean, she hit the 75 mile an hour ball just to get out of a date with me."

"Whoa. Are you serious?" Casey asked in awe.

"Yeah, three times, just to show me that she could."

"Dude, that's…kinda hot."

"I know," he growled. Oh, he knew. It was so damn hot and maddening all at the same time.

"So...it's good she turned you down?" Casey asked in confusion.

"I don't know, Case," he admitted dragging his hands down his face in frustration. Elizabeth was right, he didn't know what the hell he wanted. "And she didn't really turn me down. She said 'not right now', or some stupid ass-"

Casey grabbed his arms and spun him around to face him. "So she didn't flat out turn you down?"

"Well... I mean she shot me down when I asked her for a date, but it was more 'I don't want anything serious', 'I was hurt in the past', 'let's just keep things the same and see what happens', blah, blah-"

Casey grinned almost crushing his arms with his tightening grip. "That's great!" Raphael frowned. "That's just woman speak for 'try harder'."

"Try harder?"

"Yeah. As long as she didn't tell you flat out 'no way in hell', you're golden."

"It sure as hell didn't feel golden when she handed me my ass on a platter when she hit that ball, just so she wouldn't have to go out on a date with me."

Casey waved off his comment. "She was just…posturing, you know, showin' off. She can't make it easy for you. She wants you to chase her."

Raphael continued to look at him dubiously, as if not quite believing him.

"Listen, I know you got the whole…" he moved his hands up and down, indicating Raphael. "Mutant turtle thing going on, and you're freaking out about the whole white picket fence and the scars, but...you're thinkin' too much and takin' things too fast."

"Too fast?" Raphael asked feeling completely lost.

"Right now you're planning your marriage, where you're gonna live, how many kids you're gonna have and-"

"I'm doing what?!" Raphael squeaked in horror, his voice reaching a high note he didn't think he would actually be able to hit as he interrupted his friend.

"Get her to go out with you first, then worry about all the other crap later."

"But the crap will still be there later," he huffed angrily, knowing his friend was trying to help, but there wasn't anything Casey could do to fix everything that was wrong with him and his situation.

Casey waved off his concerns. "You find the right chick, and all that stuff isn't gonna matter. So all you need to do is get her to go out with you."

"And how the hell do I do that?" he shot back angrily, feeling slightly overwhelmed by Casey's words.

"I have no idea." Casey answered with a shake of his head.

"Some help you are," Raphael growled in dejected anger.

"But girls like romance."

"I ain't getting her flowers or chocolate or…or stuffed animals or jewelry…or whatever the hell is considered 'romantic'. Forget it."

Casey waved off these suggestions. "That stuff comes later, you know, for important occasions or when you've screwed up and need to beg for forgiveness," he told him seriously. "What you need to do is make her realize that you two got something so she'll give you a chance."

"Like what?!" he snapped in frustration. "I got nothin' Case, remember? I can't take her anywhere or-"

"Not that kind of something." Casey interrupted him. "It's that science thing...What's it called?"

Raphael stared at his friend in bewilderment. "Science thing?"

"Yeah you know. When two people are attracted to each other... "

"Like...magnets?" he offered, still completely confused at what Casey was getting at.

"Well...yeah, but not quite. It's the one with the vials and beakers; the stuff Donny does all the time."

"Chemistry?" Raphael offered up after a few moments.

"That's it." Casey said snapping his fingers.

"And how do I make her think we got somethin'? And what if we don't?" Raphael asked completely out to sea and so caught up in his friends words that he was no longer thinking about the reasons he shouldn't pursue Elizabeth.

"Kiss her."

"Kiss her?" Raphael asked in shock, as if he hadn't heard him correctly.

"Yup."

"How the hell is kissin' her supposed to do anything?" He asked in frustration. "Hell, I kiss her she might just scream and slap me."

"Well if she slaps you, you'll know that she ain't interested and she was just tryin' to be nice and let you down easy when she turned you down." Raphael glared at his friend as Casey hastened to explain further. "The thing is this, alcohol isn't the only thing that makes women make bad decisions, hormones can do that too."

"Hormones?" Raphael asked in confusion, completely ignoring the 'bad decisions' comment because he had no idea what the hell his friend was talking about.

"Sure. You gotta play up your strengths."

"My strengths?"

"Yeah, as in literal strength. You got a set of pipes on you, so use 'em. Women liked to be swept off their feet. And I ain't talkin' the 'Hey, Babe, let me show you my private island and we'll get there on my million dollar yacht' kind of sweeping...Though women like that too. I'm talking about the kind where you drag her up and kiss her till her mind stops workin', then you'll be good to go and she'll agree to anythin'."

Raphael looked at his friend dubiously. "You seriously think that'd work?"

Casey nodded. "Women always say they're lookin' for a guy who's sweet and sensitive, well, I call bullshit. Women think they want that, but what they really want is a guy who'll take charge, got a little bit of danger to him and who makes 'em all weak in the knees."

"Casey-"

"Hey, all I'm sayin' is that there's a reason that all those stupid romance books that they read have a half dressed buff dude on the front, usually tearin' the clothes off the chick that's powerless against him. And I can tell you this much, the back panel don't start out 'He was a passive, gentle, guy who liked to talk about his feelings'." Casey shook his head back and forth, making a slicing movement with his hand that spilled a little of his beer. "They're always , 'He was dark, dangerous, aggressive, strong and made women beg to have just one look from his smouldering eyes'."

Picking his jaw up off the ground Raphael grinned widely. "Just how many of those romance books you been readin' Case?"

"Shut up," Casey growled. "My point is, kiss her, go from there."

He was about to ask his friend how he would know if they had any chemistry but stopped himself, because it was too damn embarrassing to admit how out of his depth he was, and how he had no idea how to deal with women.

Raphael frowned and contemplated his friend's words.

A kiss.

It was simple enough. He could handle that.

"So are you gonna at least show me a picture of this chick or what?"

Raphael froze. He had told Casey the truth when he had told him that they hadn't been purposefully keeping the twins away from Casey and April. It was more they had never crossed paths. The women had only been to the lair twice maybe four times at the most, and other than that, Leo had kept most of their time with the women short and almost strictly at the Brownstone. Of course Raphael had snuck out of the lair on more than one occasion so he had actually been around the women more than any of his other brothers.

Giving a one shouldered shrug and pulled his phone from his pocket and threw it to his friend. He felt uncomfortable about showing the pictures that he had of Elizabeth because he was worried that his friend would take one look at her and tell him he didn't have a chance in hell with her, and to stop dreaming.

Casey was silent for a moment before he let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Are you kidding me?" he finally asked.

Raphael winced inwardly. "Yeah, I know," he agreed solemnly as he reached out for the phone that Casey pulled away before his fingers could grasp the device.

"She is hot. I mean like...smokin'." Casey turned icy blue eyes upon him. "And this chick hit the 75 mile and hour pitch, dude you gotta get with her," he turned the phone towards him and Raphael blinked in shock at the picture. It was one of Catherine looking at him furiously. Her expression was blank but he could tell she was angry because her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were flashing, and her arms were crossed over her chest which only served to pull the fabric tightly across her ample breasts.

He refused to acknowledge at how his heart sped up and his mouth went dry. _It was only because both sisters looked alike, that was all_, he thought furiously to himself. Instead he grinned. "That's Catherine, Elizabeth's sister. I needed to get a pic of her face after I said something just to piss her off. I think I told her that she was a nice piece of ass, and that it sucks that she keeps ruining it with her personality."

Casey gave a slight smile. "Is she stuck up and thinkin' she's better than you? Or is she just high maintenance?" Casey asked.

"She ain't high maintenance. She's just uptight and thinks she knows everythin'; like Leo. I like saying shit just to see if I can get a reaction outta her. She's so damn…calm. It drives me nuts."

"Okay…"Casey looked at the phone again, "So this is...?"

Raphael looked over at his phone again. "Yeah that's both of 'em standin' outside their place over on 81st ," he said of a picture of the two women standing together just outside of the Brownstone. It was a candid shot, Catherine was looking at Elizabeth, her face unreadable, while Elizabeth had a huge grin on her face, motorcycle helmet in hand.

"Catherine's the older one, so she's got a complex like Leo. She's bossy, thinks she knows everything, is overprotective, overbearing and a general pain in the ass. Leo likes her. They play chess and talk about books no one's read for like ever and art and stuff." He shuddered theatrically.

"And Elizabeth?"

"She's the fun one. She has a sweet black crotch rocket and she likes action movies and sports, and even though she likes comic books I don't hold it against her. And she don't talk down to me and treat me like I'm stupid. Both sisters are like night and day; one's fun, the other's boring."

"They look kinda young," Casey observed.

Raphael frowned. "They're Twenty one. They had their birthday just after New Years."

"Robbin' the cradle there, Raph," Casey teased with a smile as he scrolled through a few of the other pictures on Raphael's phone.

"They're barely five years younger," Raphael defended.

"So what do they do?" Casey asked curiously.

"Catherine works at the museum. She's got one of those fancy degrees in something... It ends in -ology. Something to do with history or humans...But she's got a lot of books on bones and muscles and stuff; medical stuff. I think she works on the exhibits at the museum. And Elizabeth does something with computers, designing stuff...like posters." He shrugged. "Never seen her do it. She's usually at the comic book shop, or at an art studio."

Casey nodded. "So this is the chick Leo went out on a date with?" His finger pointed at a picture of Catherine.

Raphael took a quick looked and frowned, feeling jealousy fill him over the fact that his brother had gone on a date and he hadn't...yet. "Yeah," he answered in a strained voice.

"Lucky bastard."

Raphael silently agreed.

"Hey, don't worry, Elizabeth won't stand a chance."

Raphael sighed and hoped his friend was right.

* * *

**Hmmm does anyone think Casey's plan is actually going to work? Guess you will have to keep reading to see:D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello all! First off I would like to thank Redxcanary, rinpup14, Ouigi-san, Cocoagurl, SleepingSeeker, Kimmie98, adventuresstime, CrazyGeekyLove and the Nerd fighter for all of your amazing reviews and support...*sniff* you guys are soo great! it makes me tear up with joy:D**

**Also I want to thank the Nerd Fighter for the shout out in her last chapter of 'the waiting ones' thank you soooo much!**

**So I will admit that for some reason this chapter gave me a little bit of a problem writing it and I had to re-write it a few times, but I am pleased with how it came out, and hopefully you guys will enjoy it as well. :D**

**And now...Read on...**

* * *

Chapter 11

**Raphael** had spent the night at Casey and April's crashing on their couch because he hadn't wanted to drive home after drinking and he hadn't wanted to walk into another lecture or worse, a touchy-feely appeal. Truthfully he would rather be yelled at than have his brother looking at him with worried eyes filled with pity, pleading with him just to 'talk'.

He shuddered inwardly. He didn't need to talk. He didn't need to dredge up the past, and he sure as hell didn't need to watch the guilt fill his older brother's eyes as if what had happened to him were somehow Leonardo's fault; as if Raphael blamed him for not saving him sooner.

Of course the only one to blame was himself and…

His brain recoiled away. He didn't want to think about any of that shit. If he started thinking about it, then he started re-living it and he had already suffered one 'attack' he didn't need to suffer another one. Hell, last night he'd only managed to snag a whole two hours of sleep before a nightmare ripped through his mind and had him waking up screaming into his pillow, and quaking with the cold sweat of terror upon his skin.

And besides wanting to avoid his older brother and not wanting to drink before he rode home, he could admit to himself that he was worried that he was going to have another 'attack', and if he was going to have one, he wanted Casey to be around, not his brothers. The knowledge of his attacks had even been kept from April, though she knew about the nightmares she thankfully never said anything to his brothers, because nightmares were 'normal'; violent flashback were another matter. And his brothers didn't need to either see or be a part of him having an 'attack'. His brothers didn't need to worry about him.

And because of his stupid angry outburst and dramatic exit from the lair, he knew Leonardo would be worrying himself sick, and coming up with all sorts of theories as to why Raphael was acting the way he was, which meant that the last thing he needed was for his brother to start poking and prodding at things that didn't need to be poked and prodded at.

So a text had been sent stating that he would be crashing at April and Casey's for the night. And because he didn't want Leonardo to actually think he _cared_ about his feeling's Raphael got Casey to send it_._

After the text had been sent Casey had shuffled back to bed and Raphael had watched some TV before falling asleep on the couch. He had dozed a little after his heart pounding nightmare, but he was of course up long before Casey was, and this gave him time to think and process Casey's advice regarding Elizabeth with a more level head -at least as level-headed as he could ever be.

His fears regarding his ruinous scars coupled with his obvious mental instability was something that he had a hard time both accepting and coming to grips with, but after thinking everything over he came to the same conclusion that he had last night -it would never work.

Dragging Elizabeth into a corner and kissing her was not going to change anything. He was still going to be a mutant turtle who wasn't good for anything but busting heads and getting into trouble. Kissing the girl was not going to magically turn him into some handsome prince. He was still going to live in a sewer and he was still going to be a freak who was feared and who would never be able to be a part of her human world.

Couple this with the fact that he was still fucked up and broken from an incident that happened four years ago, and he knew that it would be dangerous to bring Elizabeth any further into his messed up life.

The next time he had an 'attack' he might not be able to snap out of it. He might attack her, hurt her, or even worse, kill her.

He had thought that he was getting better, but apparently he was deluding himself. There was no 'better', there was only maintaining the appearance of normality enough to be functional.

These swirling thoughts did nothing but stir the still smoldering coals of his bitter anger into a brilliant and flickering flame. By the time he arrived at the lair that small flame had reached a five alarm blaze of acidic indignation and frustrated fury.

He was angry with himself, his life, his family, and pretty much everyone and everything. The anger was so all consuming and all encompassing that he could barely think anymore let alone reason with himself or anyone.

Knowing this he slid off his bike and slammed his bike helmet onto the seat. He strode directly from the garage area to the training room; he needed to work off some steam and not think. He wanted only to listen to the sound of his fists hitting the thick canvas of his heavy bag, his grunts of exertion and his heavy breathing. He didn't want to think about anything; not his family, what happened four years ago, or about women in general.

Leonardo had come in sometime during the anger filled beat down he was giving his heavy bag. He ignored his older brother drowning out his words and using the bag to block him from even seeing his brother's face. Leonardo finally got the hint and left, leaving him to wail on his bag with such brutal fury that it split its seam, spilling sawdust all over the floor.

Panting heavily, drenched with sweat and now angry that he was either going to have to patch his bag up or find a new one, he stormed out from the training room and headed to the bathroom to have a shower.

Entering the bathroom he tore off his shirt, avoiding looking at the mirror and starting up the shower. He pulled off his mask tossing it onto the counter and shucked his pants and underwear, dropping them to the floor with his shirt. Stepping into the steaming water he let it sluice down his body. He felt exhausted, annoyed and frustrated and wished that the water could wash away every single bitter, resentful, angry feeling that welled up within him, but it couldn't.

His hand drifted over his plastron for a brief second before hovering over his side, not quite touching the still sensitive, disfiguring scars and instead pulling his hand into an angry fist and resisting the urge to punch the tiled wall of the tub.

Unclenching his fist he closed his eyes and dragged both hands down his face. He took a deep breath and let his head fall forward. Opening his eyes he watched the water pool and flow around his feet. He wasn't sure how long he stood there watching this seemingly fascinating phenomenon before he lifted his head up and grabbed a bar of soap, quickly washing the sweat and stink from his body before turning off the water and stepping out into the steamy bathroom.

Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off before walking to the mirror. He wiped away the fog revealing only his face, the rest of his body blurred and indistinct.

He took up his mask and loosened the knot before tying it around his head. Satisfied he pulled on his dirty clothes -which was counterproductive- but he hadn't bothered to go and get clean clothes from his bedroom.

Throwing the door open he strode out, changing direction and heading for the laundry room. If Michelangelo had done laundry then at least the clothes would be clean and he wouldn't have to spend the next twenty minutes digging through the mess on his floor trying to find something that didn't smell suspicious or down right rank.

Entering the laundry room he saw a basket of laundry and dug around in it. He frowned when he realized that it was a basket that needed to go into the machine to be washed. Irritated that Michelangelo hadn't bothered to wash the laundry he had been a about to storm out and give his baby brother shit until he remembered that it was his turn to do laundry. Grumbling under his breath he quickly dug out a shirt that smelled fine and ignored the taunting basket of laundry; knowing that Leonardo was going to give him an earful later about 'shirking his duties', which was fine with him. Having Leonardo pissed off at him was a far better alternative than having his big brother suspicious and nosy.

Indecision rode through him on what he would do next. If his younger siblings were home, they were staying the hell away, and Raphael was glad of this fact. He was not in the mood to be teased and roped into a terrible video game or movie by Michelangelo, and he didn't want to hear about any new project Donatello was working on. He wanted silence, but was too riled up to just sit and do nothing.

He opted to go back to the garage and tinker with his bike. He wasn't a genius like Donatello, but he grasped the basic mechanics of keeping his bike running and how to fix it if it broke down.

There was technically nothing wrong with his bike but he wanted to do _something_ to keep himself busy.

Walking down the corridor towards the garage he heard the rumble of a bike engine and frowned, wondering if Donatello was making modifications to his bike that he hadn't been told about.

His frown deepened as he listened, realizing that the bike wasn't his own –his having a deeper rumble- as opposed to the medium to high pitch of the engine he was hearing at the moment. Casey's bike had and even deeper sound than his own, which left only one more bike; Elizabeth's.

Rounding the corner he stopped dead in his tracks as Elizabeth pulled her bike to a stop, cutting the engine and lifting up her tinted visor so she could see. Dark, kohl rimmed green eyes with dark red eye shadow were visible as was a stray piece of black hair that had fallen across her cheek. Raphael was glad to see that Elizabeth was wearing her make-up. It had bothered him the other night that she had looked and even sounded like Catherine.

He backed out of the entryway -knowing she hadn't seen him yet- and leaned against the stone wall of the corridor; not so much hiding as just gathering his thoughts.

And these thoughts tumbled around in his mind and his heart sped up slightly with nervous agitation. He debated between leaving the lair out the front entrance and avoiding her completely; staying and pretending that things hadn't changed since last night; or just telling her that he wasn't interested in her or seeing her and just leaving it at that.

By the time Elizabeth walked out from the garage Raphael still hadn't made a decision. He knew that there was no point in pursuing her anymore. He knew that a relationship would never work, and he truthfully just wanted her to leave; out of the lair and out of his life so he would never be tempted again to want something he couldn't have.

Reaching out he grabbed her wrist, intending to pull her to a stop and tell her to turn around, get back on her bike, and leave. Looking at her wrist as his rough, calloused and scarred hand slid around the smooth, velvety softness of that small delicate piece of alabaster flesh, an electric jolt shot up his arm and short circuited his brain. At least he was pretty sure that was what happened because instead of telling her to get lost, his hand tightened pulling her forward, around the corner and into him. She gasped in surprise and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face and the possible expression of shock or disgust that would fill it.

Swinging her around he was able to push her against the wall of the dimly lit corridor; effectively trapping her between his plastron and cold hard stone.

Letting go of her wrist he buried his hands into her hair, the soft tresses slid like silk across his fingers. He nearly groaned with the feel of it because he had never felt anything quite like it before.

Leaning forward he found her lips and she seemed a little surprised by the sudden and unexpected assault on her mouth. Her body stiffened and he was about pull away, hurt and cursing himself for falling into the temptation that he had spent the better half of the previous night and the morning talking himself out of; and Casey for putting the ridiculous idea into his head in the first place.

A soft hand suddenly slid across his cheek and stayed there in the most intimate and personal touch he had ever experienced. An electric shock of intense awareness blazed across his cheek where it flew along his skin, and somehow this light touch seemed even more sensual than her lips which responded against his.

Her hand splayed out against his cheek and jaw, her other hand moved across his other cheek where is slid across until her hand buried itself into the tails of his mask and pulled him in closer; deepening the kiss and sending an inferno of heated desire and need burning through every single nerve ending he possessed.

Body screaming at him to move even closer he slid his hands down her hair wrapping it around his hand a few times before bringing his hand up and gently holding the back of her neck. His other hand snaked around her body crushing her to his plastron, arm scraping across rough stone and trapped between her warm body and the wall behind her.

His brain was frantically trying to tell him something, but he told his mind to screw off, because his body was in charge and his body was pretty damn content to stay where it was and to continue what it was doing until doomsday for all it cared.

His heart pounded furiously in his chest while the blood rushed through his ears and thrummed through his veins, which only added to the fire that was burning him.

Feeding the hungry flames of lust were her delicious honey sweet lips and the passion with which she was attempting to devour him; heart, body, soul, she wanted it all.

A soft tongue brushed against his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth and his knees almost gave out beneath him. He needed to brace himself, his hand leaving her waist to place it on the wall by her head; his other hand still wrapped around her hair and buried in the back of her neck. He growled at the loss of heat from her body, but to make up for this he pushed himself even closer, which ground his hardened length against her stomach.

This nearly undid him. Something sounding suspiciously like a whimper escaped his lips, but he was barely able to process this before her tongue slipped into his mouth and across his own tongue.

That tiny flick of her small heated tongue shattered his world into a thousand -a million, trillion- tiny insignificant pieces and all he could think -if you could even call what he was doing _thinking- _was…_more_.

His own tongue was too big to enter her mouth, but she more than made up for this by plundering his; the warmth of her honey sweet tongue playing along his own, taunting and teasing him into a frenzy of aching...

_Hunger_

He hungered like he'd never hungered for anything before. Food wouldn't sate it, drink wouldn't quench it and he felt as if he would die of he didn't devour her.

Suddenly overwhelmed he needed to pull away; needed to breathe. He felt like he was drowning and he couldn't get enough air.

_What the hell am I doing?! _he screamed at himself in his head. His body was a raging inferno of carnal want, need and desire and he needed to pull back before it consumed him utterly and completely.

Tearing himself away, he opened his eyes, gazing at the woman in front of him. Her eyes -rimmed with black eye liner and eyelids brushed with scarlet- opened slowly. Green eyes dark with desire and slightly dazed looked at him as if she too had been swept up in the moment and was having a problem dragging herself back. They stared at each other a moment, both panting and quivering with barely restrained lust.

He stared at the woman in front of him, finally understanding what his mind had been screaming at him from the start.

He swallowed roughly, knowing the best defence was a good offence and that if he let loose with a verbal assault first, he would be in the best position to defend himself.

"What the HELL are you doing?!" he snarled at her, trying to calm his frantically beating heart and the flame of lust that still burned too damn brightly.

"Me?!" Catherine yelped, voice indignant. "You kissed _me_!"

Which was true.

This whole thing was his fault and culpability always made him angry. He hated admitting when things were his fault, and so he usually tried to shift the blame onto something or someone else.

"You were the one pretendin' to be your sister!" he accused unwrapping his hand from her long, luxurious, silken, raven's wing and deep crimson coloured locks, and trying to ignore how his fingers itched to dive back into her hair, just to feel the satin run through his fingers again.

"I am not pretending to be my sister!" she shot back in exasperation as her hand left his cheek and her other hand untangled itself from the ties of his mask.

He nearly groaned at the loss of her touch, wanting it back; which only infuriated him more.

"And you're the one pretending to be Leonardo," she accused as she dropped her arms to her sides.

He opened his mouth to refute her claim until he looked down at himself and realized he was wearing Leonardo's shirt. "I wasn't pretending to be Leo, I couldn't find a clean shirt," he growled defensively, realizing that he was fast losing this battle of blame. "You kissed me back," he accused childishly.

"Well, you kind of dragged me against the wall and I saw the shirt and you smelled like Leonardo and it was dark and I couldn't see your face- And why am I even trying to justify myself to you?"

He snorted. "Do you really think Leo…uptight, stuffy, boring, repressed Leo, would actually drag you into the hallway, slam you up against the wall and kiss you?" he asked mockingly.

Her eyes shifted away, a blush rising up and across her cheeks. She looked back at him steadily and she gave a one shouldered shrug, her face inscrutable. She was embarrassed, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking. "Fine, you're right," she admitted in resignation. "Happy now?" she asked him.

"No," he answered quickly. Her eyes widened in shock at the word which barely constituted as speech; it was too guttural, more a growl or a snarl. He should have been happy, he had scored a point; a victory. A smug grin should have spread across his face but it didn't, because his body felt chilled and bereft now that it was no longer pressed against hers. He was deprived of her body and craving it with a hungry yearning that had him fighting the need to push up against her again. The sweet scent of flowers drifted up and around him, teasing his senses and making him want to do nothing more than rub his cheek across hers, marking her with his scent.

He found himself leaning in, mesmerized; enthralled by the intoxicating scents that swirled around her, including one that he finally identified as desire.

She had wanted him, lust pooling low and driving her to kiss him with a passion that he hadn't know she possessed.

Envy surged through him at this thought because it was his brother, not himself for whom she lusted. And this fact made him angry; resentful even.

_What the hell made Leo so damn special?_ he asked himself angrily.

He was jealous because the woman in front of him wanted his brother, and this bothered him more than he was willing to admit. He suddenly had the perverse urge to make her want _him_. He wanted her petal soft lips open and moaning his name into his mouth as his hands grabbed her ass and ground her up against-

_I'm going insane,_ he suddenly thought to himself. That was the only conclusion he was able to come up with for why this sudden thought to seduce her had even entered his brain.

And it was all her fault.

The woman in front of him was obviously driving him crazier than he already was. He needed to push her away; get as far away from her and her damn scent as he possibly could so that he could think straight again. But he felt trapped, rooted to the spot and unable to move as her intelligent green eyes searched his; looking for the answer to why he had answered 'no' the way he had.

And he hated it.

He hated the way she looked at him because he always felt as if she was tearing into the tiny dark corners of his very soul, and found him wanting; which enraged him.

Pulling his lips back from his teeth in a feral snarl he growled; the sound vibrating in his chest. If she was bothered by his rage or this aggressive display, she didn't give any sign of it. She stared up at him without any indication of her inner thoughts; calm, cool, and collected. And this only angered him more because he wanted to crack the icy exterior that she always displayed to everyone; except for that one moment when she had unleashed all of her burning, heated passion upon him.

And made him lose his mind.

Casey had commented about hormones making women make bad decisions, but his friend hadn't said anything about how kissing a woman would affect him. He had kissed the wrong sister and he didn't care because he wanted to keep kissing her. He wanted to let loose all of that hidden, pent up passion, bathe in her scent, bury his beak in her throat, and scrape his teeth along the delicate flesh of her neck, the rapid pulse of her heart beating erratically because of him.

Almost as if sensing his inner thoughts she tipped her head to the side in thought, exposing that alabaster line of flesh. She should have been terrified. His anger was rolling off of him in great dark waves and she could not be so wholly oblivious to the danger she was in at the moment. He warred with himself; anger fought against lust with no apparent end in sight.

His heart still pounded within his chest, her scent was still luring him in with its sweet aroma, and her warm curves were a hair's breadth from his own and he wanted it all. He wanted her body pressed against his own so tightly that it would be hard to separate out where one of them left off and the other began. He wanted to crush her lips to his own and let her invade his mouth again, leaving him weak and panting with need; mind empty of anything but drowning in the pleasure of the moment.

Her presence was tormenting him and tearing him in two. He needed to remind himself how much he hated her, how much he liked Elizabeth, and that this woman wanted his brother, and his brother wanted her.

_She's Leo's._

Yet even this thought did nothing to move his feet; to pull away from temptation. He needed to think, to gather his thoughts, do anything but just stand there, growling at her like a feral beast because she had torn the metaphorical rug from beneath his feet, and brought him to his knees.

And so he stood, frozen, hand braced upon the wall by her head, other arm hanging by his side, hand clenched into a white knuckled fist fighting the need to grab her and kiss her until she was in the same quivering state of insanity and lust that he was in.

And the only way he could think of to make her move -since he couldn't- was to make her angry enough to storm away without a backward glance. And if he was lucky, she would avoid him like the plague afterwards.

He smiled a wolfish, arrogant grin knowing a way to drive her away. Unclenching his hand he lifted it plucking a silken lock of crimson hair between his fingers and pulling it forward, running his fingers down it. He tried to keep the shudder of pleasure at feeling this satin strand between his fingertips. His movement seemed to confuse her, but she didn't move, instead she watched him warily. "Dyed black hair with crimson highlights, very nice, but you know, you didn't have to try so hard to seduce me, Catherine," he purred, voice low and gravelly. "I'd be good with a threesome." He dropped the curl and waited for her reaction.

Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth opened, whether in surprise or because she was going to say something he wasn't sure, but she snapped her mouth shut and Raphael smiled, waiting for her to react.

She glanced away and wondered with a sigh, "Why do you always have to be such an ass?" She looked back at him moss green eyes narrowed in irritation and he fully expected to have to dodge her hand because he felt her tense, but the slap never came, instead she pushed him back. Her hands splayed out and she hit him right in the centre of his plastron, just over his stomach. Normally the shove wouldn't have moved him; he was double her weight and he was still leaning forward, hand braced on the wall beside her head, but he instructively reacted, moving away from her hands, his arms crossing over his plastron as if he feared that she would injure him.

Catherine went very still at his reflexive, protective and almost startled reaction to her hands upon his plastron.

Raphael's heart pounded painfully in terror. He normally wore layers of clothing -shirts covered with hoodies and jackets- but at the moment he wore only a thin blue, long sleeved shirt. He took another step back wondering if she had felt the difference of his plastron beneath the thin fabric.

Throat constricted with panic, fear and rage he silently cursed himself and her because she had made him forget for a moment that he was a mentally unstable freak of nature with horrific and disfiguring scars. He forced himself to move his arms to his sides, rather than protectively in front of him.

"And for your information, my natural hair colour is black," she stated bluntly, her face calm and unreadable. She was completely unaware of what she had just done to him.

She seemed unaffected by his lust, his anger, his fear; everything. His emotions rolled off her as effortlessly as water slid from the surface of a leaf, rolling to the very edge where it quivered for a moment before falling to the ground; unnoticed.

"And the red streaks were not my idea." she continued his terror and horror vanishing as she apparently took no notice of his strange behaviour only moments earlier. "I was set upon by my sister and her crazy photographer fiend -I mean friend- for an Alice in Wonderland photo shoot. My sister wore a wig, I had my hair dyed and streaked, I think I got the raw end of that deal," she grumbled as she pulled at a red curl. "Red is my least favourite colour," she murmured under her breath and he almost felt as if that was a dig against him, even though she never looked pointedly at him as she said this.

Anger reared up and bared it's ugly head. "Who the hell were you supposed to be, Tweedle_dum_?" he asked scathingly trying to get a dig in so that she would just leave him the hell alone and go away.

"Funny," she mocked the sarcasm thick in her voice as she gave him an insincere smile. "Raphael, I came here to see Leonardo and I have the new Harbinger comic for Michelangelo." She finally pushed herself away from the wall. "So let's just pretend that this whole thing," she made a circular motion with her hand, "never happened."

That was more than fine with him, except he didn't want her entering the lair any further. He wanted her gone because he couldn't deal with her presence, the fact that Leonardo would no doubt smell his scent thick upon her skin, and most of all, he sure as hell couldn't deal with the thought of her walking up to Leonardo and unleashing all of that pent up, lustful passion upon his brother.

This thought alone sent a new wave of jealous rage clawing its way through his gut; tearing it to shreds.

"Leo ain't here," he lied smoothly.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as if she didn't believe him. This unnerved him. Leonardo couldn't even tell when he was lying, yet she seemed to be able to; or she was just distrustful of him, which he supposed was fair. He always made things difficult for her, pushing her buttons and messing with her. "I haven't seen him since this morning." This was the truth. He hadn't seen his older brother since he had tried to get in his face this morning and he had ignored him. For all he knew Leonardo could have went out somewhere. Where he had no idea since Leonardo never left the lair for anything other than patrols, or to go to April's or Catherine's.

"Fine." She walked over and picked something up off the floor from where she had probably dropped it after he had grabbed her. "I'll just go and give this to Michelangelo and-"

Raphael stepped in from of her to block her path. "I haven't seen Mikey or Donny today either. They're probably wherever the hell Leo is."

He silently cursed himself for getting so close to her again. Her flowery scent drifted up and teased him. He leaned in closer and she didn't move as he dragged in her scent, as if enough of it hadn't already been rubbed all over him. She smelled like...her; a combination of flowers and something unidentifiable but intrinsically her, mixed in with the very faint scent of smoky incense that he associated with Elizabeth; because she was wearing Elizabeth's leather jacket. His nose was trying to tell him something but he wasn't paying attention because he was too busy fighting with himself again.

"Fine," she ground out, "could you please give this to Michelangelo for me?" She gave him the white plastic bag she had picked up from the ground moments earlier and he snatched it out of her hands, his fingers accidently brushing across hers, which sent a frisson of sparking awareness jolting through his arm.

He gritted his teeth, glaring down at her as anger rose up within him. He was furious with her because he didn't understand what the hell was wrong with him, but whatever it was, it was all her fault.

His jaw was clenched so tightly that he couldn't get any words out, so he gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

She gave him a genuine smile that made his stomach do a strange sort of flip-flop. "Thanks," she said as she turned away, walking back into the garage.

Masochist that he was he followed her.

Hips swaying from side to side she stopped beside her sister's bike, picking up her sister's helmet so that she could throw her leg over the seat. She settled herself down and placed the helmet in her lap before she tipped her head back and ran her hands through her hair. She twisted and gathered it up before reaching out, snagging her sister's helmet and pulling it over her head.

She sat for a moment before turning her attention back towards him. Her green eyes were intense almost contemplative. "Could you also tell Leonardo that I would like for him to come over for dinner at 7:00 tonight to make up for last night?"

If he had thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to the fury he now felt. He was pissed off that she had calmly waltzed into the lair drove him insane with need, and was walking back out, completely unaffected by what had just happened between them.

He was bitterly angry that she had given him a glimpse of something he could never have. He could never be with anyone, not Elizabeth, not any woman because he was mentally unstable, dangerous, and disfigured.

She kick started the motorcycle and revved the engine before she popped the clutch, the bike leaping forward as she turned around and rode from the lair.

He stared after her wishing he hadn't followed her into the garage, because now he had the image of her straddling the bike, eyes closed, red lips parted, head thrown back with glorious onyx waves cascading down her back permanently seared into his brain.

And even though he knew that he was to blame, that he was the one who had accidently dragged the wrong sister into an earth shattering kiss, he blamed her, and he wanted to get back at her. She had hurt him, so he needed to hurt her.

He didn't know what she had to 'make up for', but there was no way in hell he was giving Leonardo that message.

He looked at the bag he had in his hand and rolled it up, furiously shoving it into his back pocket. Turning, he intended on storming out of the garage and heading straight for his room. But upon exiting the garage he nearly ran right into Michelangelo.

"Hey, Raph." Michelangelo looked at him with speculation. "Did Cat leave?"

Raphael swallowed. His heart was pounding erratically as he felt adrenalin surge through him. He wasn't sure how long his baby brother had been lurking around the hallway or what he had seen or heard. But if his brother had seen or heard that he had kissed Catherine and then told Leonardo...

"How the hell do you know it was Catherine?" Raphael snarled defensively.

"Still cranky, huh?" Michelangelo observed.

"Mikey," Raphael bit out angrily.

"I heard her talking," Michelangelo answered with a shrug.

Relief flooded through Raphael when he realized that Michelangelo hadn't seen him with Catherine. And he obviously hadn't actually heard any of the accusations of who kissed who and why; which was good.

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "Wait, you could tell it was Catherine...just by her voice?" he asked in disbelief. "Mikey, they sound exactly alike, hell, the _look_ exactly alike."

Michelangelo frowned at him. "They might sound alike, but they talk completely different. And they don't look alike."

"Mikey, if you can't see their hair and if they are either wearing or not wearing make-up, they look the same; they're identical twins," he snarled, getting angry for some reason.

Michelangelo gave him a strange look. "You seriously can't tell them apart?"

"Of course I can!" he shot back even as a teasing voice taunted in his head, _'Still can't tell us apart, Raphael?_

Neurons began to fire, his mind insistently trying to tell him something, but he ignored the hell out of whatever his brain was trying to tell him.

"Okay…" Michelangelo said in a voice that indicated that his baby brother didn't believe him, but was willing to let it go.

This made Raphael furious. He had spent the most time with the two women, and he knew he should be able to tell them apart, but Michelangelo could tell them apart just from their voices.

"What do you want, Mikey?" he snapped.

"I was wondering if she had brought the new Harbinger comic for me. The new one doesn't hit the stands for another two weeks, but Elizabeth knows someone who gets her a copy early. I was hoping that Cat had brought it." His voice was hopeful eyes shining with excitement.

"No," Raphael ground out through clenched teeth, fury roaring through him even as the rolled up comic book burned in his back pocket. He was being an ass, he knew he was, but he was still angry with everyone.

Michelangelo's shoulders slumped. "Oh…okay," he mumbled dejectedly.

Raphael felt himself wince inwardly, guilt clawing at him, but he viciously stomped this feeling down.

Michelangelo turned to leave. "Oh," he looked back at him, "it's fend for yourself night tonight for dinner. So there are some leftovers in the fridge or you can make yourself something to eat." The spark returned to Michelangelo's eyes. "There's an Evil Dead marathon because of the release of the new one. You want to watch it with me?" Light brown eyes were pleading and hopeful.

"No," he snapped crossing his arms over his chest which wafted Catherine's scent to his nostrils. He took a step away from his baby brother, his frustrated, angry heart skittering in his chest in the fear that his brother would smell Catherine's scent smeared across his skin.

Michelangelo's eyes dropped in disappointment and Raphael swore he would make it up to his baby brother. But he didn't give his brother an excuses or any promises, because he didn't know when he would be in the mood to deal with his family again.

Michelangelo huffed out a sigh and turned to leave, Raphael did not give into the guilt that still assaulted him, remaining firm. Michelangelo gave him one last pleading puppy dog gaze that would have broken a weaker turtle, and finally realized that Raphael was not going to budge in his decision.

Michelangelo exited the garage and Raphael turned his mind back to his own problems. He began to pace back and forth his mind spinning but he was unable to get any of his erratic thoughts in order. He felt unsettled, angry, frustrated, jealous and worst of all, horny.

He's body still ached with need and this infuriated him because Catherine had driven him to this and he needed to know how to make it stop.

He wasn't sure how long he paced for, but he knew he had to get out of the lair and preferably not think. He strode to his bike, slammed his helmet onto his head, started the engine and tore out from the lair, hoping to leave all of his chaotic thoughts behind him.

* * *

**Whoops kissed the wrong girl. LOL Hmmm I think Catherine might want to run...LOL. Raph is ANGRY. And I know Raph is kinda being a jerk, but in his defense he is completely freaking out which means he is lashing out (which is typical Raph response to...well everything...)LOL**

**Hope everyone enjoyed! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello All! okay so I apologize for not getting this chapter up sooner, but I have been CRAZY busy lately, but now the craziness has ebbed and I can focus on this fic:D **

**I'd like to thank The Nerd Fighter, redxcanary, cocoagurl, SleepingSeeker, I Love Kittens Too, Kimmie98, Crazy Geeky Love, Wolf Assassin369, Ougi-san and Adventuresstime for all of your amazing reviews!**

**Also a special shout out to both SleepingSeeker and The Nerd Fighter for your incredible support with this fic, I don't know what I'd do without you guys!**

* * *

Chapter 12

**Raphael** paced back and forth across the rooftop of the building directly across the street from the Brownstone. He had driven aimlessly through the streets of Manhattan, feeding his rage and his frustration before he had found his way unbidden to 81st street. He had sat outside the house for a few moments, watching the slowly setting sun paint colours across the large windows of the facade before driving his bike to the next street over and parking it.

He then made his way to the roof directly opposite the Brownstone where he stood and paced, looking at the building across the street as if it would give him any insight into the women who resided within it.

Not finding any answers and his anger eventually fading to a dull growl of indignant fury, he contemplated the revenge he had planned to enact upon Catherine.

He sat down and pulled Michelangelo's comic book from his back pocket, throwing it to the ground before he yanked out his cell phone and checked the time; realizing that he still had some time to kill if he wanted Catherine to suffer.

And he did want her to suffer.

His big plan was for her to hurt; for her to feel the heart breaking, gut wrenching disappointment that he felt; enough so that he would finally shatter that calm icy exterior that she held in perfect check.

He wanted to get a _reaction_ out of her.

Last night he had told Elizabeth that he knew she wasn't Catherine because she was always yelling at him, but the truth was, she never yelled. Her voice always remained calm and controlled, but it felt as if she was yelling at him or wanted to yell at him, but wouldn't allow herself to do so.

He turned his attention away from the Brownstone, his temper growing in intensity. Only he didn't want to be angry, he wanted _her_ to be angry. He wanted to be the one in control so that he would be able to throw biting remarks and barbs at her, have them strike home, and be able to relish the look of anger on her face.

Looking at the comic he had dropped on the ground he reached forward and picked it up. He had never been a big reader and generally didn't enjoy reading. He would read the sports pages in the newspaper or the occasional sports magazine, but after he had been practically bedridden for nearly a year after...

His mind stumbled and reared back, feeling like if he even glanced at a single memory or feeling from that time he would be dragged back down into the horrifying darkness that had nearly completely consumed him again.

He instead acknowledged that during his recovery he had to pass the time, so he had resorted to reading Michelangelo's comic books; if you could call looking at the pictures and ignoring the dialogue _reading_.

Looking at the comic book in his hand he decided that either he sat and read the damn thing, or sat and stared at the house across the street, which was something he didn't want to do. If he continued to stare at the Brownstone his mind would inevitably venture to think about Catherine, and she was too damn dangerous to think about.

She would invade his thoughts and curl around them, his mind remembering how her full, luscious curves had molded to his own hardened frame. He could almost feel her warm body crushed to his, her soft lips devouring his own in a tumult of lust, need and desire, his hand roving-

"Fuck!" he snarled realizing that he had allowed himself to begin to think of her anyway, which had the uncomfortable and adverse effect of tightening his pants in the region of his crotch, sending that throbbing member to protest its inactivity and confined quarters.

He glared down at his crotch. "Traitor," he snarled in angry frustration.

It had taken him nearly an hour to bring his raging erection under control after his encounter with Catherine, and he sure as hell wasn't going to sit there and go through that again.

He tore the plastic wrapper from the comic and threw it away, snapping the crisp pages open he scanned the images, not bothering to read the text before stopping, his brain actually processing what was on the page, his mouth falling open in shock.

Blinking and feeling a smile stretch across his face he grinned lasciviously, flipping back to the beginning and enjoying the comic -both the pictures and the text- until he turned to the last page.

"That's it?!" he asked stupidly. "What the hell! You can't just end it there!" he bit out, standing and nearly throwing the book away, but holding onto it, because he opened it and sat back down, reading it again.

He would deny it until he was blue in the face, but he wanted to read more of the series. In general he didn't care much about dialogue or plot or any of that kind of crap; he mostly just liked looking at the pictures and hoping that someone would get the crap beat out of them. But about halfway through this one he stopped and started from the beginning actually taking the time to read and study the pictures, because there was something about a naked chick decapitating a dude with a big ass sword in a dirty, dingy alley that was hot. Of course he had no idea why she was dragging the big ass sword around with her or why she was naked, or if she was a good guy or a bad guy, but he sure as hell wanted to find out.

He studied the cover. He assumed that the chick's name was Harbinger and was the main character since she was on the cover. The comic was in black and white but the cover was colour. Harbinger had white hair, a band of red across her eyes -apparently painted in blood- and wore a white tube top which exposed her scarred midsection, a pair of torn jeans and a battered long brown leather trench coat. The outfit wasn't eye-catching or screaming 'super hero' like Michelangelo's Silver Sentry comics; this one was darker, grittier; more urban. Though there were scenes spliced in that were either flashbacks to something that had happened, or was happening to do with shadowy characters; but he wasn't sure which because he would have to read the rest of the comics to know for sure.

Opening the comic to the first page again he stared at the naked woman who was standing -sword in hand- as she calmly talked with the dude she was going to decapitate in a few pages. The dude obviously wasn't human -he looked human- but Raphael had no idea _what_ he was.

And now he was going to have to have a little chat with Michelangelo about his taste in comic books. He smiled in mischievous anticipation. He was going to enjoy watching Michelangelo's face when he told his baby brother that he had read his comic, and congratulate him on slipping his porn past Leonardo's uptight moralistic gaze. Leonardo would never think that lurking within the confines of an innocent comic book, were the graphic and lusciously displayed assets of a crime fighting or causing woman.

And he wanted to know what the hell was going to happen next because a sword had suddenly come out of nowhere straight through her chest, effectively pinning her to the brick wall behind her, and he would be furious with the creator of this comic if the bastard killed her.

After finishing the comic for the second time -trying to figure out what 'the Raven' was planning for his heroine- he stood, rolling up the comic book and shoving it into his back pocket again before looking across the street. The house was now completely dark, and he could have sworn that it had been lit from within about half an hour ago. He pulled out his phone, scared that he had sat upon the rooftop for too long.

The sun had set so it was after 8:00, and checking his phone the time was 8:07. This meant that Leonardo was an hour and change late for his date with Catherine; a date his brother neither knew about, nor had agreed to.

Making his way to street level he ran across the pavement and approached the door. He ran up the steps and paused for a moment before focusing his attention on the heavy wooden door and knocked. His big plan was to ask for Elizabeth to see if she wanted to hang out, with the added bonus of seeing Catherine's face rise and fall when she realized that it was him at the door and not Leonardo. He wanted to see the disappointment and crushing hurt in her eyes when he told her that he had delivered her message and it wasn't his fault that his brother had had a change of heart and ditched her.

He stood on the stoop for a few moments before frowning and knocking again when the door wasn't answered. He finally rang the doorbell, wondering if Catherine had been so upset with Leonardo's failure to show up, that she had opted to crawl into bed and cry herself to sleep.

He hopped up on the stone railing and leaned over, peeking into the window. He could see a light on in the kitchen, but the rest of the house was dark. He jumped back onto the stoop and knocked again; the door remaining unanswered.

Sudden worry and fear spiked through him as he tried the latch on the door and felt it give way beneath his thumb. He slowly opened the door and edged himself inside. He called out Catherine and Elizabeth's names but received no answer; only stillness and oppressive silence.

Terror slid a trail of ice down his spine as he looked for signs of a burglary or struggle. He knew the two women usually kept the front door locked, so it terrified him that it was unlocked. Various scenarios played through his mind, each worse than the last; a burglar could have entered the house, a rapist, a murderer an old enemy of his family...

He quietly closed the door behind him and locked it. If anyone was in the house that wasn't supposed to be, they wouldn't have an easy time getting out.

Raphael pulled his sais from his belt and slowly moved from the foyer to the kitchen, checking the hallway, bathroom, study and living room along the way. By this time his heart was beating painfully hard in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as fear dug its claws deeper into his flesh and drew blood.

A pristine, white piece of paper lay upon the clean and uncluttered counter. There was no sign of a meal or anything else to suggest any recent usage.

His heart twisted and ceased to beat as he stared at the piece of paper, approaching it as he would a bomb; with great caution and no small amount of terror.

Shoving one sai through his belt he reached out with a shaking hand and picked up the note, reading it several times over because his mind couldn't seem to process the words.

_Raphael, _

_I'm out back in the garden._

_p.s. there's beer in the fridge_.

He crumpled up the paper and shoved it into his pocket, fury climbing up and choking him. He ignored his relief at finding nothing had befallen either Catherine or Elizabeth and instead focused upon his anger.

He stomped to the fridge and opened the door. Sitting prominently in front was a six case of beer; sweat beaded invitingly upon the cold dark brown bottles.

He stared at the beer in for a moment. There was never beer in the house because neither woman drank it. Wine was the alcoholic beverage of choice and Elizabeth seemed to drink more than Catherine, though to be honest, he rarely if ever saw either woman drink and even when they did, he had never seen either one drunk.

He slammed the fridge door shut, intending on tearing a strip off of Catherine for scaring the shit out of him. He stomped towards the garden doors and paused, turning around, opening the fridge again and grabbing out a beer. He twisted the cap, took a long swig and then another before grabbing the rest of the case and slamming the door to the fridge shut again. If he was going to be going one on one with Catherine, he would need the alcohol.

He stormed outside, turning and slamming the garden door behind him. He put the case of beer down -so he wouldn't be tempted to throw the breakable the bottles in a fit of rage- before turning back around and approaching the figure of the woman who stood in front of a BBQ grill; the tantalizing scent of burgers drifting lazily towards him.

Catherine glanced at him over her shoulder, a look he wasn't able to comprehend -something like disappointment- flashed briefly across her face before she gave him a half smile.

He ignored his heart which skipped a beat at her smile and frowned even harder; stomping up to her and getting close enough to invade her personal space with both his body and his nearly tangible, seething anger. His eyes raked her form, still looking for signs of harm even though he knew there wouldn't be any, but still had the compulsion to do so anyway.

She wore a short white military style coat, paired with dark jeans, and a black knit hat thing with cat ears.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" he bit out angrily, his one hand clenched tightly into white knuckled fist, the other clutching at his bottle of beer so forcefully that he could hear the glass beginning to creak beneath his fingers. "You left your front door open," he accused voice becoming low and dangerous. "Anyone off the street could have just waltzed in here and did who knows what to you! And…" A gentle whiff of her delectable scent wafted to his nostrils and his mind tripped over itself. "And...and…What the hell are you wearing on your head?!" he stammered. His brain was still trying to kick-start itself into coherency, but it couldn't seem to get any neurons to fire because he was standing too close to delectable curves that were only accented by what she wore. He wanted to step back but couldn't without feeling like he was giving ground or admitting to himself that she had the power to affect him like she did.

"It's a scoodie," she answered his last question, apparently unconcerned and unaffected by the anger that wove around him like an ominous black shroud.

"A what?!" he asked stupidly.

"It's a scarf plus a hoodie; a scoodie."

"It's stupid."

It was adorable.

This was a word he didn't even think he had in his vocabulary let alone one he would use to describe Catherine. Unfortunately, _adorable_ was the only word he could come up with. She looked cozy and warm, and the black cat ears poking up from her head suited her. The hat blended into her dark, curling, ebony and crimson locks which cascaded down and around her shoulders, providing a stark but breathtaking contrast against the creamy white of her coat.

He suddenly felt overly warm and blamed her for making him angry, flustered and confused all at the same time.

"Elizabeth made it for me," she answered softly and Raphael cursed under his breath for opening his big fat mouth. He resisted the urge to run a hand down his face and instead decided to focus again upon why he was angry.

His anger was so much easier to deal with than trying to figure out why his heart was hammering almost painfully in his chest and why his stomach was doing some sort of wild acrobatic routine that consisted of somersaults, flips and death defying leaps from great and improbable heights.

"This is New York, you don't leave your door open," he snarled, trying to get the conversation back on track.

Catherine looked up at him calmly. "I only opened it about ten minutes ago, just in case I was outside when you came by." She answered. "Since Leonardo didn't show up I figured that you would be popping by sometime soon and I was busy cooking the burgers back here." She gave a half smile. But I appreciate your concern over my welfare."

"I wasn't 'concerned' about you," he protested bitingly which only made her half grin turn into a wide lipped smile that contained a hint of mischief. Mischief that was aimed at him. He swallowed roughly her next words nearly inaudible due to the blood that was rushing through his ears.

"And besides," she lifted a dark brow archly. "I'm pretty sure I saw a shadowy turtle-esque shape sitting on the rooftop across the street, which I am guessing was you," she finished dryly as she took a step away from him.

Able to think again now that she had stepped away he processed her words and blanched, grew hot, fought with his flight or fight instincts and generally only confirmed her accusation by being unable to deny it. His anger was nearly smothered by embarrassment, and he tried -too late- to refute her allegation. "I wasn't sitting across the street spyin' on you," he protested weakly, trying to gather the tattered fragments of his wavering fury around him. "I came here to see Elizabeth."

"So that wasn't you skulking on the rooftop across the street?" she asked before she shook her head effectively silencing his protest of innocence. "Raphael, let's not play games, okay? You know and I know that it was you across the street. We also both know that you didn't give Leonardo my message any more than you gave Michelangelo his comic book," she informed him as she pointed behind him and he looked over his shoulder to where the incriminating comic book sat rolled up in his back pocket.

His heart clenched uncomfortably in his chest as he realized that he had been caught red handed. Grinding his teeth together in fury he turned his attention back to her, but found he didn't have anything to say. He could deny her accusations, but knew she wouldn't believe him. He almost felt as if she had been testing him somehow and that he had failed miserably.

She sighed, turning away from him and opening the BBQ grill, pulling out a burger, and placing it on a bun. He had noticed the smell of cooking burgers as soon as he had exited the house, but hadn't paid much attention to it because he had been too angry. But as soon as his eyes focused on the food, he felt his stomach growled loudly in hunger and his mouth began to water in anticipation.

"You're probably hungry," she said as the delicious smell teased at his nostrils. "I felt like homemade burgers tonight, so I hope you like bison." She placed another burger on a bun. "Fully loaded, right?" she questioned as she placed bacon, cheese, tomato, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, BBQ sauce and mustard on the first burger and handed him the plate already laden with French fries and ketchup.

He took the plate automatically; feeling completely lost by her apparent indifference with what he had done to her. She wasn't tearing a strip off of him, but was instead feeding him; which was incredibly unsettling.

He tried to cling to his decimated anger as Catherine ushered him to a seat and practically pushed him into the heavy wooden chair that was covered with a thick, comfortable cushion.

He placed his beer on the arm of the chair and watched her warily, as if expecting something more from her, but her attention was focused on making up her own burger. He looked back at his plate wondering if she had poisoned the burger, or put some sort of laxative into it. His stomach protested -very vocally and insistently- and he decided to chance a bite of the burger because he belatedly realized that he was starving; apparently having forgotten to eat anything today.

And after the first bite he wasn't sure if he was just _that_ hungry, or if it was actually _the_ best burger he had ever eaten. He polished off his hamburger in four bites -before Catherine had even finished making hers. He began jamming fries in his mouth and wondered what exactly 'bison' was and if there were any more burgers on the grill.

Catherine flicked a quick glance at him. "Do you want another one?" she asked politely. She didn't wait for him to answer and instead made him another burger. She made her burger the same way she had made his except she put miracle whip on her bun.

He looked at her burger in horror. "What are you doing to your burger?" he asked completely appalled. "I didn't think Canadians _actually_ put mayo on burgers. I thought that was just a_ Whole Nine Yards_ thing."

She laughed obviously understanding the movie reference and enjoying it. The sound of her surprised laughter echoed through the night; flowing smoothly across his skin like the finest cool satin. "Well, I wouldn't say _ALL_ Canadians put mayonnaise on their burgers, but I like it," she said placing the bun together and taking a bite before she walked over to a chair and sat down, placing his second burger on his plate.

Screaming inside his head to get a hold of himself he ignored her when she didn't say anything or offer up any explanations as to why she wasn't furious. They ate in silence, his guilty conscience clamoring to be heard.

He jammed the final piece of the burger into his mouth and finished his fries, cleaning off his plate before he took a long swig of his ice cold beer. And still she said nothing; content to sit with him in silence which was beginning to unnerve him because he was waiting for her to _do_ something. Yell at him, hit him, do _anything_ but sit calmly across from him as if he hadn't just admitted to acting like a complete and total asshole.

He watched her for another few minutes and found that he couldn't take the silence anymore. He felt like it was suffocating him, grating on his frayed nerves and frankly scaring the shit out of him. Sickening guilt at his actions filled him as he waited for his punishment with nervous apprehension and admitted culpability; a emotions and action Leonardo had never been able to inspire within him before a dreaded lecture.

"What's goin' on, and why aren't you pissed off that I didn't give Leo the message?" he finally asked, voice thick with forced anger and suspicion.

Catherine looked at him steadily and placed her hamburger on her plate, only half eaten. He seriously considered asking her if she was going to finish it because he was still hungry.

He must have been staring at the burger with too much intensity because Catherine picked up her plate and offered it to him. He debated giving her a sneer and implying something about not wanting to swap spit with her, except he'd already done that today. This thought alone kept his big beak shut and had him taking the plate without a word. He belatedly remembered that she had contaminated her burger by putting mayonnaise on it. He stared at it a moment and shrugged taking a bite and realizing that it was actually pretty damn good; not that he would ever admit that to her.

Catherine waited until he was finished eating. He took another drink of beer, finishing off the bottle and placing it on the ground by his foot.

"I don't know why you seem to dislike me so much," she began, "but whatever, that's fine. You aren't my favourite person in the world either, but at least I _try_ to be nice to you." He almost flinched at her words because they upset him more than he expected they would. He didn't like her and did everything in his power to make her understand this, but for some reason, it hurt him to know that she actually disliked him back.

She continued as he tried to keep his inner turmoil from showing on his face. If he was successful or not he wasn't sure, but her next words had his mouth falling into a frown of confusion.

"I understand that you're angry because of last night and that's fine, I deserve it and I'm okay with it," she leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, face lit by the soft light that surrounded them. "I had hoped that you would give Leonardo my message, but I honestly didn't think that you would." Her voice came out as resigned and disappointed. Guilt rose up within him and he squashed it down flat. "When Leonardo didn't show up, I figured you would come by instead. And of course, you couldn't show up on time because that would have been polite, and that particular quality is not in your repertoire," she told him seriously, her words even, calm and confusing as hell because he didn't know what she was talking about. She continued to talk before he was able to ask her to clarify her words.

"But either way I owed both you and Leonardo an apology, so dinner was my way of saying sorry. I apologized to Leonardo over the phone, but I was hoping to see him and apologize face to face. But since you are here, I can apologize to you."

He blinked at her, completely lost and bewildered. He had acted like a total ass and she was apologizing to _him_. He had no idea why she thought she owed both him and his older brother an apology.

"Raphael," she began and he gritted his teeth at the way she said his name; soft, gentle and with an almost musical lilt that slid across his skin and gave him goose bumps. "You didn't have to sabotage my evening with Leonardo tonight, because I wasn't sabotaging your evening with my sister. I apologize for giving you the impression that I was Elizabeth, it was very wrong of me. And I want you to know that I told you what my sister told me and her reasons for not wanting a relationship right now. And I told you about Derrik, which is the reason why I think she's scared of relationships. My sister has had bad luck with men and some of her 'relationships' were worse than others. But Derrik broke her heart first and I think that still haunts her."

He sat there completely stunned. "That was you?" he questioned slowly in shock, almost unable to process the words she had just spoken.

Catherine blinked at him in surprise. "You mean…You didn't know?" she asked him completely aghast. "Then why were you acting so strange last night, and why were you so angry today? And why did you sabotage my date?"

He stared at her. He tried to feel anger or betrayal over her deception, but he couldn't seem to dredge up either feeling because the truth was -deep down- he had already known. His eyes, ears and even his nose had told him that the woman last night had been Catherine; just as all of his senses today had screamed at him that the woman he was kissing was Catherine as well. But he had refused to believe his senses because he didn't want to believe them. He didn't want to believe that he could actually enjoy Catherine's company, accept that they had something in common, or acknowledge that her skills in the batting cage were impressive. But most of all, he didn't want to admit to the fact that it had been Catherine's touch that had ignited a fire within him that -after today's kiss- burned even more fiercely.

And now she was wondering why he had ruined her evening with his brother, and why he was so angry with her if not for the reasons she had believed.

The truth was that he hadn't actually thought about his older brother when he had concocted his revenge scheme upon Catherine. Even now he wasn't sure what Catherine had done to Leonardo to warrant an apology and he didn't really care. Instead his mind focused on his goal, which had been to make her hurt; feel disappointment and loss and crush her with it. But this hadn't worked because she had just assumed that he would act like a spiteful, angry jerk and not tell Leonardo about his date.

She would never believe that Leonardo had ditched her because his brother was so fucking gentlemanly and perfect.

And even on the off chance she believed that Leonardo had, she would have texted or called his brother to see where he was, and Leonardo would have answered _'What date_?' Catherine would then have known that Raphael hadn't delivered the message and her fury would have been directed towards him.

Except that Catherine wasn't angry with him and was taking his punishment of her in stride and apologizing to him because she was operating under the impression that he had a right to be angry with her -which he apparently did- but this was not the reason he had acted with malicious intent. This made him feel small, petty and mean spirited.

Worse than this feeling however was the knowledge that she had assumed the very worst of him, and had been right.

She may have had the reasons wrong as to why he had acted as he had, but she had accurately predicted the way he was going to act, and this thought angered him as much as it disturbed him.

Added to this anger was the fact that he couldn't tell her the actual reason he had been angry with her. He couldn't tell her that he was furious because when he had kissed her, she had kissed him back, which had given him a glimpse of what he could never have; a physical and emotional relationship with a woman.

And the woman sitting in front of him was offering this to his brother and it made him furious and filled with envious jealousy.

Maybe if it was only the disfiguring and brutal scars... or just the nightmares, but both coupled with his violent attacks and mental instability made him barely fit for human company, let alone anything else.

And so he had no choice but to go on the offensive, attacking her and distracting her so that he wouldn't have to answer her probing question. "I don't like you," he growled bluntly.

"I've gathered that," Catherine answered her voice serious and devoid of any emotional inflection. "Why?" she asked, tipping her head to the side as she studied him thoughtfully.

He swallowed roughly because he was having trouble focusing on his anger towards her when she looked like nothing more than an adorable, inquiring kitten with her head tipped to the side in curiosity.

"Because," he answered with a childish non-answer as she continued to look at him with unwavering attention. "You use those big long words and treat me like I'm stupid," he bit out as he slowly stood, placing the two plates gently on the ground with the scrape of ceramic upon stone. He couldn't think, his anger and bitterness nearly consuming him as he grasped for something tangible to tell her. "I don't like you because you think you're better than me, and know everything just because you have one of those fancy degrees." his mind actually staggered and re-examined this thought because he knew Elizabeth had gone to a technical school and last night Catherine had point blank told him that she had been experimenting in university when she he had called her a switch hitter; which put all sorts of images into his head that left his mind reeling and scrambling to get his anger back and thoughts in order to continue his angry tirade against her. " You...you're uptight, controlling, talk down to me, and...and think you know everything and don't think I'm good enough for your sister. So you're right, Kitty, I don't like you," he put a snarl in his voice to cover up for the fact that he had begun to stammer and added in Elizabeth's hated nickname for Catherine- just for good measure.

Catherine froze; he couldn't even see her breathing. He studied her face which was a blank mask that was far better than anything Leonardo was able to produce. She finally straightened her head -no longer tipped to the side in curiosity- and stood. He wondered if he had finally made her angry enough to react, but all she did was study him in speculation.

"That is quite the lengthy and weighty description of my perceived faults, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically and he actually swallowed in trepidation at her calm acceptance of his words. "Well, let's start off with the fact that I don't think you are stupid," she refuted. "I have a large vocabulary because I read a lot and have never thought to dumb down my speech for you because I think you are smart enough to understand a word's meaning by the context of the sentence. I actually believe that you are much smarter than you pretend to be, but unfortunately for you, your brain does you no good because you get so angry with everybody and everything that you lash out and say and do stupid things continuously; even if it will come back to bite you in the ass later. I don't think I'm better than you, I'm not uptight or controlling, and I don't talk down to you. I am merely pointing out the fact that you are being a jerk." She looked at him pointedly before continuing. "I don't believe my university degree makes me any smarter than you and I know for a fact that I don't know everything -which you mentioned twice by the way- and I think you are good enough for my sister. At least you would be if you toned down your arrogance, controlled your temper, thought about others and their feelings as opposed to just your own, and stopped lashing out at the people who care about you."

Walking towards him while she talked she finally stopped and stood directly in front of him; invading his personal space. Strangely enough he swore he could actually feel the heat emanating through her clothing and passing directly though his; searing his flesh and making him overly warm as her flowery scent wafted around him teasingly.

She searched his eyes and he looked away, unable to meet her probing gaze because he was sure she would be able to see straight through him and know what he was thinking.

After a moment she spoke again. "I think it's _you_ who doesn't think you're smart enough or good enough for my sister. So maybe you should stop projecting your own insecurities onto me, and onto everyone else."

He looked back at her and growled under his breath, not knowing what to say to her possibly accurate barb.

She ignored this and continued. "And the only one who gets to call me 'Kitty' is my sister." Her voice was even, but this time it contained an edge of finely sharpened steel -a warning- and for once in his life, he actually listened, giving a faint nod of acknowledgement which seemed to satisfy her.

"Good," she nodded in satisfaction. "I can't make you like me, but you need to at least try to be civil. So let's call a truce," she offered.

"Fine," he managed to growl out because he didn't know what else to say. Looking down at her he tried to concentrate on her words. He was having problems focusing and hearing what she was saying over his still frantically beating heart.

She then held out her hand and he stared at it like he didn't quite know what she was doing. He realized that she wanted to shake his hand and he stared at her hand as if it was going to bite him.

She smirked at him. "Do you really not think you will be able to be nice to me, Raphael?" she asked her voice oddly low and having the effect of drifting pleasantly across his skin.

Gritting his teeth he took her hand and shook it, ignoring the jolt of electricity that raced up his arm. He stared at the alabaster hand that lay clasped in his own. It was so small, soft and warm, and looked delicate in comparison to his larger, calloused, scarred and three fingered hand. Staring at her hand he finally understood the ramifications of Catherine's apology. If Catherine had been with him at the batting cages, then that meant that Elizabeth had been -for some reason- with Leonardo. He realized that Leonardo's adamant protestation of not being out on a date last night was because his brother had also been out with the wrong sister. He wasn't sure if Elizabeth had been asked to go out with Leonardo instead, or if the twins had pulled a switch for some reason.

The fact that Leonardo had been out with Elizabeth should have sent a black wave of jealousy crashing through him, but instead he found that the black wave was no more than a dark, trickle of angry bitterness. Elizabeth being out with Leonardo was a moot point. Raphael couldn't pursue Elizabeth and she had no interest in him anyway.

Letting out a heavy breath from his nostrils that came out as a resigned huff of warm air, his mind was brought back to the moment by the continuous heat seeping into his hand from Catherine's. He looked up from their clasped hands and encountered Catherine's steady, green-eyed gaze staring back at him. The silence that surrounded them suddenly struck him. "Where's Elizabeth?" he asked in a soft, shaky voice, not releasing her hand back to her.

Catherine's face softened at the question and he found himself studying her eyes which had suddenly warmed with affection at the thought of her sister, and he found himself wondering how he could make her look at him with those affectionate eyes. "She's not here," she answered gently. "She's with Sabrina looking over the proofs from the photo shoot today. and I'm sorry, but I don't know when she is going to be home."

For some reason he found that he couldn't breathe. He hadn't thought about the fact that he and Catherine were completely alone; even though in the back of his mind he knew Elizabeth wasn't home because if she had been, then Catherine wouldn't have had a reason to unlock the front door. But now that she was standing so close to him he realized how incredible intimate and charged the setting in the garden had become. Catherine's soft scent surrounded them both as the darkness of the night cloaked them with a soft blanket of intimacy.

They stared at each other for a moment Catherine's thoughts unreadable, but eyes sharp and searching, as if she was trying to glean something of his thoughts. But the truth as he couldn't think, he was instead too busy fighting with every fiber of his being to pull back and away from the woman who stood in front of him. He felt himself leaning down towards her -why he had no idea- but thankfully Catherine shattered the intimate moment by gently pulling her hand from his. That same hand reached out and touched the center of his plastron -probably to shove him away- but she never did more than manage a feather light touch before he stumbled back. He knew she wouldn't be able to feel anything under the multiple layers of clothing he wore, and he knew she couldn't hurt him, but the reaction was automatic.

He took in a deep, shaky breath, mumbling something scathing and turning, heading back into the house, straight through and out the front door as fast as he was able to move without breaking out into a run.

Exiting the front door he slammed it shut behind him before breaking out into a run, as if he could flee his chaotic thoughts as well as the scent of temptation that still clung to his clothing.

* * *

**LOL well I don't think that quite went as planned for Raph;) LOL And can anyone say _denial?_;)**

**Also for anyone who hasn't seen _The Whole Nine Yards_, there is a scene where Bruce Willis has ordered a burger (they are in Montreal) and he sends it back because they put mayo on it.**

**Thoughts and opinions are greatly appreciated and next chapter we will be getting back to Leo:) Raph has hogged the spotlight enough;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello all! **

**Okay, so...I know I said that this chapter would be from Leo's point of view...but it didn't happen (Please don't hurt me!) LOL I was going to have a very _brief_ part with Catherine and her thoughts on what had happened between her and Raph, but apparently she thinks too much so...yeah. But I promise next chapter will be Leo:) (Raph fans, I am sure you are not disappointed) LOL**

**A huge thank you as always to my lovely reviewers Adventuresstime, ImpartingAbyss, cocoagurl, The Nerdfighter, I love kittens too, SleepingSeeker, CrazyGeekyLove, Redxcanary and Ougi-san. You guys are sooo awesome!**

**and now...please enjoy**

Chapter 13

**Catherine** stared at Raphael's retreating carapace and resisted the urge to throw something at him; preferably something big enough and heavy enough to knock some sense into that thick skull of his. She looked at the empty beer bottle and the two plates and decided that they weren't big enough or heavy enough to do the job.

Eyes settling upon the wooden chair she seriously contemplated hefting that up and lobbing it at him, but by this time Raphael had already vanished into the house and a few moments later she heard the front door slam shut.

Glancing back at the bottle and two plates she resisted the urge to pick up and throw all three breakable objects at the side of the house -just to relieve some of her anger- but decided against it because then she would have to clean up the mess. Instead she took a deep, calming breath and made a mental note to make sure that the next time she went to the lair, to bring some food because Raphael was apparently not getting enough to eat, which meant that the other brothers weren't getting enough to eat either.

She looked up at the night sky, illuminated as it was by an artificial orange glow, which obscured the stars above. She wished she could see the twinkling, celestial lights because she missed being able to see. She missed Canada and its wide open spaces, the brightness of the stars and the brilliant light show given off by the Aurora Borealis in winter.

She liked her job and she liked the Brownstone, but it wasn't home.

Not that she had any fixed definition of 'home', she'd had one once, and parents too for that matter, but that had been a long time ago.

Pulling off her hat she ran her hands through her hair before pulling the scoodie back onto her head to keep the evening chill of early May away. She had been planning on going to the hair dresser to get her hair re-dyed tomorrow, but Raphael's parting comment of 'I don't like you and I hate your hair' made her perversely want to keep it just as it was; red streaks and all.

She clenched her teeth together in irritation. She and Raphael had called a truce. He had promised that he would try to be nice to her, and that promise had lasted all of two minutes before he had insulted her.

Letting out a huff of air, she walked over to the chair where she had sat, picking up her glass and drinking down the rest of the water. Then she walked over to the chair where Raphael had sat. She scooped up the two plates and the beer bottle, which he had stacked upon the ground.

"And the jerk didn't even thank me for the meal," she grumbled to herself under her breath.

She had hoped that Leonardo would come tonight, but had strongly suspected that Raphael would show up instead. And so she had bought Raphael's favourite beer when she had purchased the ingredients for dinner. By ten after seven, she had known that her message hadn't been delivered. She had planned for dinner to be closer to eight anyway so it hadn't been ruined when Leonardo hadn't arrived. She supposed that she had taken a gamble in believing that Raphael would show up, but figured that if he didn't then she would just have leftovers for tomorrow. It wasn't as if she was cooking a huge formal dinner with wine and candles or anything anyway.

And so while she waited to start dinner she used the extra time to clean up the kitchen after she had made the burgers and fries. Before she had placed anything on the grill and before she even started the fries she had peeled out the front window. Her eyes had scanned the darkness and had managed to catch the movement of a darker shadow against the darkness, sitting upon the building opposite the Brownstone. Unlocking the door she had gone to begin dinner.

And then Raphael had shown up, just when the burgers were almost done, furious and yelling at her because she had left the door open. She was surprised by his concern and his anger, though considering the lives he and his brothers had led, it was no surprise that he would jump to the worst possible conclusion at finding the front door unlocked.

It had then been easy enough to talk him down and after a few sputtered denials of his actions regarding both Leonardo and Michelangelo; she had managed to push him into a chair. Feeding him seemed to help calm him even more, as well as keeping his mouth too busy to talk and ruin her attempt at enjoying the night.

She had then politely apologized for deceiving him the night before and his look of blank incredulity had surprised her. He hadn't known that she had been with him last night, which made her question why he had been so angry. He had avoided the question and listed off a litany of petty reasons for why he disliked her. Most of them were ridiculous and that was fine. It felt good to clear the air between them, but she drew the line at him calling her 'Kitty'. She controlled her irritation and slowly stood.

She had walked up to him and stood directly in front of him, just as he had earlier in the evening, because -for some reason she wasn't quite able to understand- her close presence seemed to bother him. And maybe it was a little petty, but she had decided that she wanted to make him uncomfortable.

She had then searched his eyes and he avoided her gaze and told him what she believed; that he didn't think much of himself - which seemed to have struck a nerve because he had growled at her -literally- the sound emanating from deep in his chest. She was tempted to ask him how he did that, but instead informed him in no uncertain terms that her sister was the only one who was allowed to call her 'Kitty'.

'Kitty' and 'Lizzy' were nicknames they had given each other when they had learned where their parents had gotten the names 'Elizabeth' and 'Catherine' from. And they were annoying and usually used when each of them were either doing something that irritated the other for some reason, or was used as an exasperated endearment of sorts. And as much as the nicknames were annoying, they names were special to them and they were not for others to use.

Raphael -in a moment of keen understanding- seemed to take her words seriously and nodded in agreement before she offered up her idea of a truce. She had offered out her hand and he had looked at it as if it was some sort of strange alien object. She had questioned him if he would not be able to be nice to her and he had grudgingly taken her hand; but did not release it right away as he asked about Elizabeth. She had told him that her sister was not home and that she didn't know when she would be. She had given him an encouraging smile, letting him know that she thought it was sweet that he had inquired about Elizabeth.

And then it had gotten weird.

Catherine pushed this thought aside to be examined later. She walked into the house, closing the garden door behind her. Striding to the kitchen she placed the dishes in the sink -to be dealt with later- the beer in the fridge, and the bottle in the recycle bin. She hated leaving the dishes in the sink, it actually set her teeth on edge, but at the moment she wanted to crawl into the bath.

Walking to the front door she locked it, took off her coat and boots and placed them in the closet on the way upstairs to the second floor. She was going to run a bath and soak in it until her muscles loosened. She wasn't angry anymore, but was determined to stay in the bath until Raphael's actions actually made some sort of logical sense; which due to the latter condition meant that her stay in the bathtub would no doubt exceed well past the point when her fingers had become pruney, and the bath water had turned icy cold.

Entering the master bedroom she grabbed her plaid pajama pants and her t-shirt. She threw her scoodie onto the ornately carved antique dark wood four pollster bed that she had managed to procure at an estate auction. She had attempted to furnish the house using period pieces and had attempted to keep much of the original features and layout. But there were some things that had been modernized, like the kitchen and the bathrooms.

The 'garden level' or the sort of basement' as she liked to call it, was where Elizabeth had set up her studio. Sabrina had influenced Elizabeth's sudden interest in photography and her sister had put screens, lights, those weird umbrella looking light things, tripods and various other equipment set up along with her art tables, yarn storage and a computer desk which was stuffed into a corner and surrounded by boxes and furniture which had been present in the house when they had moved in.

The first floor had been restored to its former glory and held a foyer with the staircase leading to the second, third and fourth floors. The main floor also had a study, a half bath, a kitchen with eating area, a formal dining room and a separate living room.

The original floor plan for the second floor had consisted of various salons and parlours and even a small dance floor, all of which were not needed. So she had converted the space into large bedroom suites. The Master bedroom she had claimed for herself which had an adjoining Master bath. There were two other bedrooms which shared a full bath. Elizabeth was in one bedroom and Catherine was using the other as a personal studio. Easels, paint, brushes, an architect's table, paper, pencils, pens and markers were all organized and stored in the room.

The third floor had two extra bedrooms and another full bath, a gym and a theatre room. The fourth floor was mostly storage at the moment, but had been set up to contain her uncle's impressive art and antique collection.

Catherine entered the Master bath, done in shades of dark and warm caramels with dark wood accents, light granite countertops, a large glass enclosed shower in the corner, and a white porcelain claw foot tub in the center of the large room.

Walking to the tub she turned on the taps, put in the plug and walked to a cupboard where she pulled out a bottle of raspberry bubble bath which she squirted into the tub before placing it back in the cupboard.

She pulled off her clothes and dropped them to the floor. She strode past the large mirror only catching a brief flash of inked flesh before she slipped into the almost too hot water.

She slid down until her chin rested just above the light, fluffy, white bubbles that had formed. Reaching up she turned the taps off before she lay back and closed her eyes wishing that she had remembered to bring her phone into the bathroom with her so that she could have listened to some music. Instead it was sitting downstairs in her coat pocket. She let out a huff of breath trying to relax her tense muscles but was unable to because her mind continued to drift to thoughts of Raphael; which only seemed to aggravate her current situation.

Letting out a sigh of resignation she decided to actually contemplate Raphael, if only to finally be able to push him from her mind.

Her mind automatically flew to this morning and their encounter in the lair. Okay it was more than just an 'encounter'.

Raphael had swept her up into a passionate embrace that had sparked a fire within her that had needed to be fed. She had felt as if there had been too many clothes and too much distance separating them and had pressed herself against his hardened body, needing to be closer, and to have as much of her skin touching his as she could.

Feeling something hard yet soft pressed up against her stomach had been partly embarrassing, and partly empowering; pleased that the passionate, inhibition shattering kiss had affected him as much as it was affecting her. Her heart leapt and hammered in her chest as he had wrapped his hand around her hair and pinned her to the wall.

It had been exhilarating.

The sense of possessiveness mixed with aggression and want made her breathless. A burning fire of need, lust and desire had pooled low in her belly and between her legs that needed to be filled. She had been just about to let her hand drift down and under his shirt, wanting to feel more of his cool but pleasantly textured flesh with her own. And then he had pulled back, cheeks flushed, golden eyes so dark and filled with animalistic lust that it had driven the air from her lungs.

Her body went cold as horrified embarrassment crashed through her like a destructive wave.

She and Raphael had stared at each other for a moment and she had no idea what to say or even do because she was speechless and immobile from the shock of kissing Raphael.

The problem of course was the fact that the kiss hadn't been _just _a kiss. Sure no clothes had been removed and no x-rated body parts had been groped, caressed or fondled, but that kiss had been earth shattering.

And it had been with the **wrong brother**.

Catherine dragged her hands through her hair in frustration and slid beneath the surface of the water; as if doing so would wash away the image and her body's remembrance of Raphael's lips against her own, his hands holding her body tightly to his own and the lust that had surfaced and which was -at the moment- uncomfortably pulsing between her legs.

Coming up for air she pushed her wet hair back and acknowledged that it had been a while since she'd had sex, which may account for her body's almost famished reaction to Raphael. Of course she had been under the impression that Raphael was Leonardo, so she forgave her body for acting as it had.

Raphael had reacted first and had yelled at her -big surprise there- and blamed her for pretending to be her sister. Except that she wasn't and he had been the one who had slammed her against the wall and kissed _her,_ not the other way around. And she hadn't been able to see him in the darkened hallway. All she had seen was Leonardo's shirt and that had been it. Raphael had dragged _his_ hands through _her_ longhair, wrapped it around his hand and held her neck gently as he had kissed all thoughts from her mind.

Of course she admitted that these were not the actions of the oldest brother who was more cautious by nature, but she had thought that _maybe_ he had finally decided to release all of the pent of passion and desire that she knew to be lurking just below his calm, staid and seemingly impenetrable surface.

A girl could hope, and because she had clung to that teasing emotion, it had instead darted away, silently mocking her.

Which meant that Raphael should have been thrilled by her agreement that Leonardo wouldn't have acted in such a reckless way, but instead of being pleased with himself he outright told her that he was not 'happy' about this particular circumstance.

Instead he had just glared at her, his fury palpable; a nearly tangible beast of dark rage crawling through his eyes, ready to break free from the weak cage that held it prisoner.

But she didn't fear him, truthfully she was trying to understand why he was so angry, and tipped her head to the side in thought as she studied the emotions that swirled and danced around in Raphael's nearly shadowed eyes.

And then he had smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but one he no doubt believed hid all of the anger that still simmered just below the surface as he implied that she was trying to seduce him, and that was fine because he was up for a threesome.

Her mouth had fallen open. Not because she had been surprised by the insinuation of her trying to 'seduce him' because she was 'wearing his colour' (and since when did Raphael have ownership of the colour red anyway?) and not at all shocked that in Raphael's mind, seduction had slid into 'threesome'. And because his words had not shocked her, she had wanted to call his bluff and purr at him that he would have no idea what to do with one woman, let alone two, but if he thought he was _up_ to the task, she and her sister were game. Only she didn't because the last thing she needed was for Raphael to take her up on her challenge. She was not interested in Raphael and she didn't share men with her sister. She didn't do one night stands or flings. She didn't have a problem with people who did and the idea of threesomes didn't bother her in any way either; whatever floated your boat as long as everything was consensual and legal. But for her, when she had sex it was because she was in very deep like or in love, not because she was horny.

And so she had sighed dramatically and asked no one in particular why he had to be such an ass and shoved him away. She had intended to push him hard, but had not expected him to move, or if he did, it would have been grudgingly. Instead as soon as her fingers touched his plastron pure terror and horror had filled his face causing her to freeze.

She didn't move a muscle or even breathe because to do so may set him off. She thought for a moment that he had for some reason fallen back into an episode like he had experienced the other night, but as she studied his eyes, she knew that he was in complete control of his faculties and so she pretended she hadn't noticed his extreme reaction to her hands on his plastron, calmly explaining that her hair colour was naturally black and that the dye job had not been her idea. She had even infused a bit of humour into her voice in an attempt to reassure Raphael of her apparent ignorance of his response to her touch. This seemed to work as he had insulted her by asking if she was dressed as Tweedle_dum_ for the photo shoot.

Oddly relieved that Raphael's anger had resurfaced and replaced the fear and terror, she explained that she wanted to talk with Leonardo and give Michelangelo his comic, and suggested that they pretend the whole kissing thing hadn't happened.

This seemed to infuriate him and he told her that Leonardo was not at home; which was a lie. She knew he was lying and there appeared to be some reason he didn't want her entering the lair, so she had given up, and instead gave Raphael the chance to play nice and give Leonardo a message and deliver the comic book to Michelangelo.

Which he hadn't done.

"Jerk," she muttered under her breath as she felt her anger flaring to life again, her already tense muscles becoming tighter.

She had believed that Raphael had either figured out that she had been 'Elizabeth' last night, or Leonardo had told him and she was resigned to giving Raphael an apology. Which brought her mind back to what had happened tonight.

Raphael wasn't complicated. She had told him the truth when she had informed him that she didn't think he was stupid; but this didn't mean that he wasn't easy to read. Raphael had the type of personality where he would cut off his own nose...or beak she supposed...just to spite his own face. Instead of dealing with his emotions he became angry and defensive and would act rashly and recklessly.

Of course this didn't mean that any of his actions actually made _sense_ to her, but she generally had a good idea of how he would react given a certain situation. Except that for some reason, Raphael didn't seem to know what he was thinking or what he was doing anymore and had apparently lost what little sanity he possessed.

After she had offered him a truce and he had held her hand staring into her eyes with an odd sort of intensity that had caused her to hold her breath; his presence having suddenly become overwhelming.

Raphael filled a room with his mere attendance -he couldn't seem to help it- and the large open space of the garden had suddenly felt enclosed and too small an area to contain the sheer force of his volatile personality.

Raphael had suddenly become unpredictable, his golden eyes filled with emotions and thoughts that she couldn't quite comprehend, and she strongly suspected that he couldn't either; which made him so very dangerous.

And then _that_ look had appeared on his face.

She would admit that she wasn't very experienced when it came to intimate relationships. She could count on one hand the number of relationships she had ever been in and even then she still had a couple digits to spare. But she knew enough to know _that_ look; the tension and intensity of a poignant moment when everyone holds their breath fearing to breathe lest the moment be broken and forever ruined or marred.

It was as if his mind had finally settled upon something, or perhaps his body had taken over because his eyes had turned molten with heat and want and desire. He looked as if he wanted to kiss her; to crush her to him and repeat the encounter of earlier that day.

Eyes locked together -his hand holding hers ever so gently before tightening- she felt her lungs take a swift intake of breath as he leaned forward, eyes focused upon her face the _want _of kissing her changing into the _action_ of kissing her; all within a split second of time.

Raphael had just admitted to her that he hated her, and yet there he was leaning down to claim her lips in another searing kiss, and for the first time she really noticed his scent. She knew Leonardo's scent, which was a mix of musk, steel, and herbs, and although Raphael's body contained that same hint of musk, his was more earthy, dusky and surprisingly pleasant. So pleasant in fact that she felt herself almost responding to the heated look he was giving her. And this thought alone had her hand shooting out to stop him from getting any closer and from her leaning into him.

Her own heart was pounding uncomfortably in her chest and the moment her fingers even brushed his plastron he jumped back as if she was about to hurt him; just like he had earlier that day. But this time he didn't try to cover his reaction and instead rudely insulter her and her hair and practically ran from the house.

Catherine pulled her hand from the soapy bubbles that surrounded her and stared at it, watching the suds lazily slide down her flesh to drip back into the water again. She twisted her hand this way and that, as if it held the answer to her question of what it was about her touching Raphael's chest that so bothered him?

Leonardo would flinch if he didn't see a touch coming, but Raphael's reaction seemed...different. Raphael hadn't jumped back when she had adjusted his posture in the batting cage, though it was apparent that he had been incredibly uncomfortable. But her light touch just a few minutes ago only confirmed what she had already suspected; that there was something that Raphael was hiding beneath the layers of his clothing. And she could acknowledge that this morning when she had shoved him away, she had felt something beneath his thin shirt that he obviously didn't want known.

Michelangelo had shown her a brief glimpse of his plastron and carapace once when he had been pulling off a hoodie and the shirt underneath had ridden up enough to expose a piece of his torso, so she knew what should be under Raphael's shirt, only...

When her left hand had briefly pressed against the scutes of Raphael's plastron, she could feel the ridges and the organic feel of it beneath his shirt, but her right hand had encountered something much different. Although her hands had only momentarily touched his chest, her right hand had encountered something hard, smooth, cold and inorganic.

And for some reason whatever he was hiding, it had the power to turn Raphael -brave, stubborn, reckless, obstinate, and fearsome Raphael- into a terrified creature scrambling to protect himself. Whether he was fearful that she actually would or could somehow hurt him, or if he was fearful of her discovering what actually lay beneath the layers of clothing he normally wore, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that whatever his problem was, it was none of her business and she was not going to poke the bear to find out. She was curious, she wanted to know, but knew that she was the last person on the planet he would ever share anything with. And she could admit that she was okay with that.

As long as Raphael stopped sabotaging her and Leonardo's possible relationship, she would gladly leave him be and not poke and pry into his business.

Dropping her hand back into the tub she continued to stare at the bubbles that floated around her. Both the heat and the bubbles had begun to vanish from the tub and Catherine could feel that her fingers had become pruney, but her muscles had relaxed and her mind was no longer filled with anger or turmoil.

She filed the entire day away in her head under 'messed up' and decided that tomorrow was a new day and it would hopefully be a better, saner one.

Letting out a huff of breath she sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. She placed her head upon her knees and looked at the steam that slowly floated around the bathroom and fogged up the mirror.

The last two days had been a disaster -admittedly of her own making- and she hoped that she and Leonardo could make plans for next weekend; perhaps even have a real date. And then she could push Raphael into the furthest depths of her mind and ignore the flare of desire and thrill that still thrummed through her body at the thought of their kiss.

Stupidly chasing after the hope that had been dashed today, all she could do was look forward to kissing the right brother and have the spark that had been ignited within her today be fed into an even greater blaze.

Her mind stumbled over this as she pulled her head off her knees.

"Crap," she mumbled under her breath, pulling the plug from the tub as she stood; the water sluicing from her body to fall back into the tub. She dragged her hands through the long, damp, tangled strands of her hair and squeezed the water out.

And now she was faced with a dilemma. Did she tell Leonardo about her accidentally kissing his brother, or not? Did she tell her sister? Would Elizabeth's feeling's be hurt, or would she even care? And what about Leonardo's feelings? Would he be jealous? Or would he not care?

She and Raphael had agreed to pretend the kiss had never happened, except it had. And not telling Leonardo could end up biting her in the ass later. On the other hand it wasn't as if she and Leonardo were dating either.

Sudden insecurity flew through her heart and wrapped itself around that beating muscle, crushing it with nervous apprehension.

After this weekend she believed that her chances with Leonardo had gone from slim to none to just none. To list; she had switched places with her sister because she had to work late; she had apologized and been forgiven, but then the very next day she had locked lips with Raphael.

Granted Raphael had been the one to drag her into a kiss and it had been accidental. It wasn't as if she had wanted to kiss Raphael, and it wasn't as if he had wanted to kiss her either…

Except…possibly an hour ago…

"Double crap," she softly whispered under her breath.

Like a lightning strike it finally hit her as to why Raphael had been so angry.

She already knew it wasn't because she had given him the impression that she was Elizabeth because he hadn't known. And he had avoided her question of why he was angry by deftly distracting her by flat out telling her that he didn't like her.

She dragged her hands down her face.

Raphael was angry because he had kissed her.

For some strange reason this fact had made him furious. His reaction seemed to be out of proportion with what had happened. He had accidentally kissed her thinking she was her sister. Disappointment she could understand, but the rage that he felt didn't make any sense to her. It was as if she had ruined something for him.

She supposed that it had probably been his first kiss... but still, for a first kiss it was a damn good one. Usually those kinds of kisses only occurred in the movies because first kisses were always awkward, usually involving the accidental bumping of teeth, noses and lips. And Raphael didn't seem the sentimental type where forever more his life would be ruined because his first kiss was with the wrong sister.

And besides, she was disappointed too. Her kiss with Leonardo hadn't been with Leonardo but with his younger brother who she disliked and who disliked her back. She could admit that it was an awkward situation, but not a fury inducing one.

She stood for a moment, her body drip drying as her mind tried to understand what was going on in Raphael's head.

She understood _why_ he was angry, but couldn't understand the underlying _reason_ he was furious. She wondered why he had shown up tonight pretending to be looking for Elizabeth, apparently meting out some sort of 'revenge' against her. Elizabeth becoming an afterthought rather than a present one.

Stepping from the tub she grabbed at a towel and wrapped it around herself. Walking towards the vanity she wiped the fog away from the mirror, staring at her reflection as if it could give her some answers and found none.

* * *

**And there you go, Cat's thoughts on Raph;) hope everyone enjoyed:)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello all, another update! 2 in one week, it's like a miracle or something! LOL Okay not really but you get the idea;)**

**Anyway things will start moving along but like a fine wine this story needs time to get rolling, but it will happen, not to worry.**

**I would like to thank rinpup14, Ougi-san, ZabuzaGirl, adventuresstime, The Nerdfighter, CrazyGeekyLove, SleepingSeeker and all of the Guests who reviewed the last chapter, thank you guys soooo much!**

**Also thank you to SleepingSeeker who offered up some much needed advice! Thank you so much, you are awesome!**

**And now on with the show...**

* * *

Chapter 14

**Leonardo** wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck with a towel he had brought with him before letting it hang around his neck as he exited the training area.

It had taken him a few hours, but he had managed to wear off the irritation he had felt towards Raphael. He had tried to talk with his brother about what had happened with him last night, but Raphael had purposefully ignored him and continued to beat the stuffing out of his heavy bag.

Leonardo had no choice but to walk away, because if he didn't his anger was going to get the better of him and he was going to start to yell and lecture and end up pushing Raphael even further away than he already had.

He blew out a frustrated breath.

The truth was that he had no idea what to do about Raphael; his defiance, his attitude or his inability to share his feelings.

He was trying to understand what had happened within the last two days that had suddenly caused Raphael to be unable to stand even the sight of him and Leonardo couldn't figure out what he had done wrong, or if he could even fix it.

He needed to talk with Raphael, but that seemed like an impossibility. They could never seem to just talk; lay everything out on the table and have a rational discussion about their thoughts and feelings. Raphael only pushed him further away the more he tried to bring him closer.

Leonardo let out a frustrated sigh. And at the moment, he had no idea where his hot-headed brother even was. He tried to push down the panic that filled him at this thought, but failed. He would always worry, period. He didn't think he would be able to stop worrying.

He walked past the living room where Michelangelo was laying on the couch, watching some sort of horror movie.

"Hey, Mikey." Leonardo said to his baby brother, who looked over at him and paused the TV.

"Hey, Leo, _Army of Darkness_ just started, wanna watch?" Michelangelo asked hopefully.

Leonardo restrained a grimace. He loved his baby brother, but did not love Michelangelo's taste in horror movies. "Not right now," Leonardo declined politely, promising to make it up to his brother later. "Where's Donny?" he wondered, surprised he hadn't conscripted their genius brother into watching the movie.

"In his lab," Michelangelo answered with a slight pout. "He's still upgrading the bio- scanners for the security system." Michelangelo answered.

Leonardo nodded. Donatello had been making sure only the approved bio signatures were able to enter and leave the lair. There had been a surprising amount of heavy lifting regarding the machine and he had spent most of the day helping Donatello in his lab, which had been filled with the sounds of Donatello's mild cursing, alarms and the occasional flashing of lights.

Donatello had added both Catherine and Elizabeth and although Leonardo didn't quite know how he felt about the two women being able to come and go from the lair as they pleased, he really had no reason to object. They were their friends, and besides, the two women rarely if ever came to the lair anyway.

Michelangelo dug his hand into an apparently empty bowl in his lap -if the frown on his baby brother's face was anything to go by.

Michelangelo looked into the bowl to confirm that there was no longer any food in it and tipped it upside down just to make doubly certain.

Leonardo bit down on a smile, but felt his tightened shoulders loosen slightly at his baby brother's antics.

"Do you know where Raph is?" Leonardo ventured, hoping that Michelangelo had some idea of where Raphael had disappeared to.

"Nope."

Leonardo felt his shoulders slump slightly.

Michelangelo stood and stretched, moving towards the kitchen to refill his bowl with popcorn, Leonardo following close behind.

"But I can tell you this much, something's up with him," Michelangelo observed as he pulled the container of popcorn from the cupboard and poured it into the machine before turning it on. Leonardo had walked over to the fridge, opened it and paused at his brother's words.

"Like what?" Leonardo asked, holding his breath and hoping that Michelangelo knew something that he didn't.

Michelangelo leaned back against the counter, standing beside the whirring popcorn popper as the first few kernels began to pop. His baby brother crossed his arms over his chest before finally giving a shrug.

Michelangelo took out some butter and placed a small amount in a bowl, throwing it in the microwave to melt.

Leonardo repressed a sigh and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, closing the door and twisting the cap from the bottle in his hand. He tipped his head back and thirstily drank back the cold, clear liquid. He drank the whole bottle before pulling it away from his lips and throwing the empty plastic into the recycle bin. Feeling a little at odds and not really knowing what to do he walked to the kitchen table and slumped down into a chair.

"So when'd you get back?" Michelangelo asked curiously, an inquiring smile lighting his face. "How was dinner?" Michelangelo's smile grew and his voice had a lilt of teasing to it that confused him.

He felt his face pull into a frown. "I was in the lab most of the day helping Donny. After that I was in the training room practicing my katas." Leonardo narrowed his eyes. "When was the last time you practiced your katas, Mikey?"

"Hey, this isn't about me." Michelangelo shook his head back and forth, holding his hands up defensively.

"I think we should begin doing regular training again. I have left you all to your own devices and neither you nor Donny spends any time training anymore."

"Awwhh come on, Leo. Just 'cause your date went crappy doesn't mean you have to take it out on us," Michelangelo pouted.

"It wasn't a date," Leonardo bit out resisting the urge to tell Michelangelo that he had been out with Elizabeth last night not Catherine, because that was a can of worms he just didn't want to open.

Michelangelo frowned and shook his head. "A chick inviting you to her place for dinner kinda sounds like a date to me, but whatever." Michelangelo turned the popcorn machine off and pulled the bowl of melted butter from the microwave, dumping the contents over the popcorn and shaking the salt shaker over the bowl before shoving a handful of the fluffy white snack into his mouth.

Michelangelo picked up the bowl and offered him some as he was about to walk from the kitchen to the living room.

"Mikey, what are you talking about?" he asked ignoring the proffered snack even as his stomach growled in protest because he had forgotten to eat dinner.

Michelangelo only rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Leo, it took us like four months to get you to go out with Cat. Stop denying everything. I overheard Cat tell Raph to tell you that dinner was at 7:00 tonight. That was like...two and a half hours ago. You don't have to sneak around and pretend you aren't dating her. We want you to date her and-" Michelangelo abruptly stopped.

Leonardo gave his brother a slow blink of baffled incomprehension.

"Raph didn't give you the message...did he?" Michelangelo ventured slowly.

"Catherine was here?" he asked in disbelief. His heart pounded and his skin felt overly tight and hot at the thought of Catherine.

"Yeah," Michelangelo offered slowly. "I didn't see her though, she left before I had the chance. But I overheard her ask Raph to tell you to come over tonight at 7:00 for dinner."

Staring at his baby brother in numb shock his eyes travelled to the clock on the stove. The bright green numbers proclaimed it was 9:32, two and a half hours past 7:00, just as Michelangelo had said.

"Maybe he forgot?" Michelangelo offered up his voice raising a hopeful octave, before his eyes fell away, not quite able to believe his own suggestion.

Leonardo sat at the table a moment, fury at Raphael warring with horror over unintentionally standing Catherine up.

If Michelangelo said anything else he couldn't hear his brother over the blood rushing through his ears and his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Standing so quickly that he knocked his chair backwards he ran from the kitchen, up the stairs and into his bedroom where he pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. He had changed into sweat pants and a loose t-shirt to train in several hours ago, which meant he hadn't taken his phone with him. He didn't even want to see how many calls, text messages and messages Catherine had left him.

He stared blankly at the screen of his phone. There were no new calls, not texts and no messages. Swallowing roughly he heard his baby brother's feet pounding upon the stairway and down the hall, stopping in Leonardo's doorway, as if he didn't dare enter without permission.

He wondered why she hadn't called him. He turned and sat down heavily on his bed, still staring at his phone.

"Is she mad?" Michelangelo quietly asked from the door.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "But...she probably thinks I changed my mind and that I'm not interested in her...or she is furious. I've never seen Catherine angry, but I suppose cooking a romantic dinner and then waiting and waiting for your date to show up..." his voice trailed off and he winced. What would she have done then? Accepted that he had changed his mind because he couldn't forgive her for switching places with her sister last night or being too angry and filled with stubborn pride to call him and sound desperate and clingy?

Taking a deep breath he held up his hand silencing whatever Michelangelo was about to say. He dialed Catherine's cell phone number and waited in worried trepidation as the phone rang and rang until finally the voicemail kicked in. He hung up, not bothering to leave a message. He dialled her home phone and it too was not answered going to the answering machine as.

Standing he strode past Michelangelo, who quickly stumbled out of his way.

There was part of him that knew that she probably wasn't answering the phone because she was either too hurt or too angry to talk with him, but there was a small sliver of speculative worry that seeped through him at the thought that something may have happened to her; even though he knew that his first assumption was most likely the correct one.

"Leo!" Michelangelo called out but he was truthfully too angry and upset to listen to whatever his baby brother had to say. In fact the anger was fast replacing any other emotion and it was focused squarely upon his red masked younger brother.

He ignored the stairs and leapt over the railing, landing easily on the main floor and strode towards the garage, grabbing a coat and slamming his feet into his boots on the way.

Raphael had not told him that Catherine had been here today and had not given him her message, which had subsequently hurt Catherine in some way or another.

Fury filled his every step as he hopped into the truck, his hands clenching the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. He had never felt so angry, and considering the many times Raphael had pushed him, and how angry he had been last night, this said something.

It was one thing to hurt him -he was used to his brother's temperament and his penchant of lashing out without discretion or thought- but it was another thing to hurt Catherine.

Turning the key the engine turned over and he slammed his foot to the floor, peeling from the lair in a squeal of burning and smoking tires.

* * *

**Michelangelo** stared at the back of the converted armoured truck with too many conflicting emotions rolling around within him. He was angry with Raphael for hurting Catherine and Leonardo; purposefully. But he had been telling Leonardo the truth when he had said he wasn't sure what was going on with Raphael.

They had all avoided Raphael for most of the day, his anger so thick and virulent that none of them dared approach. Raphael angry was a normal occurrence, he usually got over it, but today something had been different. When Michelangelo ran into his older brother in the garage after Catherine had left, Raphael had been cagey and furious (nothing new there) but mixed in with the anger was confusion, hurt and guilt.

Michelangelo let out a sigh and shook his head. Maybe Raphael had already decided to pull his cruel trick upon Leonardo. He knew the two had fought the night before, and it wasn't like it would be a huge surprise for Raphael to lash out and try to hurt Leonardo by being cruel.

"Was that Raph?" Donatello asked, coming to stand beside him in the garage.

"Leo," he answered in resignation.

Donatello looked at the skid marks across the floor of the garage. "Do I want to know?" his genius brother asked.

"Probably not," Michelangelo answered truthfully. If their two older brothers were going to engage in a full out Battle Royale, he didn't want to be anywhere nearby.

Donatello gave him an odd look.

"Same old, same old," he said with a wave of his hand, stomping down on the concern he felt for both of his brothers. Though to be truthful he was not impressed with Raphael lashing out and hurting Catherine. She was their friend and as her friend Raphael shouldn't be trying to hurt her, no matter how much Raphael disliked her.

"Why do you suppose Raph hates Cat so much?" he asked his genius brother.

Donatello let out a sigh beside him. "I don't know, Mikey. Maybe because she's like Leo." Michelangelo frowned and looked at Donatello who held up his hands. "I know she isn't," Donatello clarified.

Michelangelo nodded, turned his attention away from his brother and stared at the exit of the garage. He liked both Catherine and Elizabeth. He liked hanging around them and found them to be good company, and wished that Leonardo would loosen up a little and let him visit them more often.

His mind turned to Donatello's words about Raphael thinking that Catherine was like Leonardo. If he compared the two sisters Catherine seemed stern, serious and reserved, but if he compared Catherine to Leonardo, she seemed less reserved, smiled more, laughed more and had a mischievous streak that Leonardo didn't possess. So he could see how Raphael would think that Catherine was like Leonardo, but she wasn't, not really.

Michelangelo believed his oldest brother and Catherine shared similar tastes, interests and values, which tended to run counter to anything Raphael believed or was interested in.

"Relationships are complicated," he grumbled, hoping that Leonardo and Catherine would be able to work things out. They had been pushing for Leonardo to actually accept his feelings for Catherine instead of burying them -because quite frankly- Leonardo had become a growling bear, and they already had one of those; dealing with two Raphael's was just painful. On the other hand, Michelangelo hadn't thought about the consequences of his brother having a relationship, mainly the possibility that the relationship may end, leaving Leonardo, Catherine or both with a broken heart.

Donatello let out humph of agreement at his observation on relationships.

Looking over at his genius brother he asked, "So did you finish your upgrades?"

"Yeah," Donatello answered before his eyes widened at Michelangelo's broad grin.

"Good. _Army of Darkness_ just started and I just made fresh popcorn," he said throwing his arms across his genius brother's shoulders.

"Mikey-" Donatello protested trying to dislodge his arm.

Michelangelo looked at his brother, wide puppy-dog eyes pleading and full of injured hurt. Donatello -not being a strong willed as Raphael- crumbled like a house of cards before his brother's woe-be-gone face.

Shoulders slumping in resignation Donatello murmured out a grumbled, 'Fine'.

Michelangelo smiled in contentment as he pulled Donatello towards the living room. His thoughts turned back to Leonardo and -because he was optimistic by nature- believed that everything would work itself out, it usually did; in the end.

* * *

**Leonardo** slunk from the shadows that had hidden him from view and followed behind the darkened figure that strode up the steps in front of him.

Lightning fast he ducked beneath the fist that was aimed at his jaw, managing to catch the woman as she over rotated and nearly lost her balance enough to teeter precariously on the edge of the top step.

"Leo!? What the hell!?" Elizabeth hissed in angry protest as he righted her and stood back. "I could have hurt you."

He lifted a disbelieving eye ridge.

"Fine, I could have hurt myself," she grumbled in acknowledgment. "What are you doing here?" She looked at her watch. "It's ten thirty. Getting a little late, isn't it?" she asked with a frown before she gave a teasing smile. "Or did you rush over here for a booty call?" she inquired pulling off the sweat laden towel that had still been draped around his neck.

He reached out and yanked the towel from Elizabeth's hands and felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He stammered out a negative protest and Elizabeth laughed, her amusement lighting her moss green eyes with enjoyment.

"I'm just bugging you. Cat would actually want to go out on a _date_ first before she actually jumped into bed with you."

This statement only made Leonardo blush even harder before giving an embarrassed cough. "Your sister invited me to dinner tonight. Raph…took the message from Catherine and then neglected to tell me." He tried to keep his voice neutral, but it came out bitter and angry, bordering on sarcastic.

The smile fell from her face. "So…you ditched my sister?"

"I didn't know she had invited me!" he snapped back defensively.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed in anger, sparks seeming to shoot from her now lightened leaf green eyes. "I am going to kill him," she growled.

"Get in line," Leonardo quipped and Elizabeth gave a smirk of acknowledgement before looking back at the darkened Brownstone.

"How long have you been standing out here?" Elizabeth asked him as she dug her keys out of her pocket.

"Half an hour," he answered glumly. "She didn't answer her cell or the home phone and the lights are all off..." his voice trailed off.

"Did you knock? Or ring the bell?" Elizabeth inquired over her shoulder as she opened the door.

Leonardo looked away. "I didn't want to disturb her if she had gone to bed," he mumbled.

Elizabeth paused in the doorway. "It wouldn't be like Cat to just ignore your calls," she said over her shoulder before leading the way into the house. "I mean, you were pissed last night and you took her call, so she should have taken yours. Although..." her voice trailed off thoughtfully, but did not complete her thought.

The entryway was dark before Elizabeth turned on a light, closing the door and locking it behind her. Taking off her jacket and shoes she threw them into the closet by the front door (it was a Canadian thing). He kept his coat and boots on and followed her towards the kitchen, where a light had been left on. Checking the rooms until they reached the kitchen at the back of the house they found no sign of Catherine.

Leonardo could feel his muscles beginning to tighten with worry and the anticipation of violence, and wished he hadn't rushed from the lair without his katanas.

However, he did not let his worry show, as Elizabeth seemed to be unconcerned with her sister's behaviour.

Elizabeth walked around the center island that held a sink and stopped dead in her tracks, face becoming grim.

Adrenalin surged through his body as she looked up at him, her face deadly serious.

"Run," she told him in a soft, low voice.

* * *

**Hehe, hope everyone enjoyed:)**

**I know it is a little shorter than my usual chapters but blame it on the fact that the chapter became ridiculously long so I cut it in half -ish, which is why you get the double update this week;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello all, okay so new chapter of Cardinal points, yay!**

**A big giant thank you to rinpup14, SleepingSeeker, The Nerdfighter, Ougi-san, cocoagurl and Kimmie98 for your wonderful reviews!**

**please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 15

**Leonardo** froze, muscles tensing even more as his eyes darted frantically around, looking for the danger that Elizabeth had perceived. He cursed himself for again leaving the lair without his beloved katanas but his searching eyes located a weapon.

Without thinking his body reacted. Leaping over the island he slid, grabbing a large knife from the wooden knife block on the island while at the same time knocking Elizabeth to the ground with his hand and covering her protectively with his body.

Heart hammering in his chest he held his breath, ears straining to hear any noise.

"Leo," Elizabeth hissed. "What the hell?!"

He glared at her, putting a finger to his lips, as he sat up, hand still pressing Elizabeth to the ground as he peered around the island, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness beyond the kitchen.

Elizabeth groaned. "We're not under attack. I meant run before Cat sees you," she growled lowly. "And stop groping me."

Leonardo's head swivelled and looked at her face which was full of irritation, a light angry, blush crossing her face. He looked down at where his hand was still pressing her to the floor and he realized that his hand was cupping her right breast.

Heat flooded his face as his hand shot off of her chest as if it had burned him. He stammered out an apology while Elizabeth sat up and finally stood.

"I knew you were high strung but…wow," she grumbled as he stood and slid the knife back into its spot, face still flooded with embarrassment.

"I-" he began but she waved away his words.

"Whatever. Point is, you have to leave," Elizabeth grabbed his shoulders attempting to turn him, but he wouldn't let her.

"Eliza-" she covered his beak with her hand and shushed him.

"She might hear you," Elizabeth whispered, eyes darting towards the hall.

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. "Who?" he whispered back.

Elizabeth gave him an irritated look. "Who do you think?" she asked rhetorically.

Leonardo frowned in confusion as Elizabeth managed to turn him in the direction of the front door.

"Okay, here's the deal. Don't call Cat, or come over. If she doesn't call in like...three...make that four days, then call. But up until then, just stay as far away from her as you can get."

"Elizabeth, what's going on?" he asked turning back and grabbing her by the shoulders.

He ignored the fission of awareness that suddenly blazed through him at her overly close presence.

Her eyes darted to the island and back to him. "There are dishes in the sink," she said with hushed horror as if that explained everything.

He gave a slow blink as he let go of her shoulders, walked past her, and looked into the sink. There were two dishes, both with crumbs -an indication that there had been food on them- as well as a single glass placed directly in the center of the neatly stacked plates.

Leonardo felt guilt roll through him at the thought of Catherine going to so much trouble for him, and her believing that he had decided not to show up.

"I'll just explain-" he began, turning and intending to go to the upper level to search for Catherine to explain what had happened when Elizabeth placed a restraining hand on his chest.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head from side to side. "You don't understand; _there are dishes in the sink_," she emphasized emphatically.

"So?" he asked not understanding why dishes in the sink were so important other than the fact that it showed that she had cooked for two, but the single glass indicated that there hadn't been a second dinner companion.

"Cat is OCD when it comes to...well almost everything. Okay she isn't _actually _OCD, but she's a neat freak. Everything has its place and has been organized to within an inch of its life, and there are some things that make her twitchy; like...cap off the toothpaste kind of twitchy. One of them is dishes in the sink. She can't stand it. We have a dishwasher, but since it's just the two of us we usually don't use it so we hand wash everything. And Cat always wants the dishes cleaned and out of the sink by the end of the night, usually right after dinner."

"She was upset..." he ventured, but Elizabeth was shaking her head back and forth.

"If she was upset, the dishes wouldn't be there. Cat cleans when she's upset. This is like..." she swept her hand across indicating the sink. "You know how in movies and TV shows when some women get angry and they start throwing things?"

Leonardo gave a slow nod.

"Well, this is Cat's version of throwing things. This is like when a rock star trashes a hotel room and there is a lamp sticking out of the drywall, the sink has been ripped from the wall and the mattress has been tossed out the window."

"So she's...angry? And therefore...unreasonable?" he asked trying to understand what had Elizabeth so on edge about Catherine being angry enough to not do the dishes -which to be honest- sounded incredibly harmless to him.

Elizabeth shook her head back and forth again. "No...Cat doesn't do unreasonable, she's very reasonable, which is why you need to leave and not talk to her until she is ready to talk to you. I will tell her what happened and-"

Leonardo grabbed Elizabeth's arms again, halting her words; too confused and worried to think about his close proximity to her, or how the heat from her body seemed to sink into his clothes, her scent taunting him with its sweetness.

"Will she hurt you?" he asked concerned, and wondering if Catherine was completely unstable.

Elizabeth gave him a look as if he had just grown another head. She glanced around conspiratorially and she pulled from his grip, reaching down and grabbing his hand. Small sparks of something shot up his arm as she dragged him into the living room, closing the double sliding doors closed behind her.

"Okay here's the deal," Elizabeth said striding past him to flop down on the couch and turned on a lamp that was sitting on a side table. She leaned over and brought out a basket which contained various colours and kinds of yarn, along with knitting needles.

Grabbing out a square of knitting which looked almost like the beginnings of a scarf (though he could be wrong), she began to knit with the needles that were already shoved through the top.

He watched this process with fascination, her fingers moving swiftly as she seemed to collect her thoughts. He stood silently and waited for her to speak.

"Cat...she doesn't tend to express her emotions. She's very...controlled. Sure she smiles and laughs, but you have no idea what's going on in her head, especially when something is bothering her. So you really have to pay attention to her face to read what's really going on. Me, what you see is what you get. Angry-scowl, happy-smile, sad-frown; the right facial expression for the corresponding emotion. Anyway, Cat doesn't get mad, she gets annoyed or irritated, so it's very rare that she gets to full blown anger, but when she does, you'd better stay clear or risk being frozen solid and having all of your little insecurities -your hidden thoughts and feelings- dragged out and paraded before your eyes. Trust me, she's good at that."

Leonardo closed his eyes with irritation at the fact that Raphael had placed him in this situation. "So why can't I just explain what happened?" he asked with a growl in his voice.

Elizabeth sighed her needles slowing. "Because once that switch had been hit there is no un-hitting it, not until she is good and ready to hit her own switch back."

Letting out a puff of air he began to pace across the room as he listened to the steady clicking of Elizabeth's knitting needles. His mind turned over the incongruous hobby of the punky-goth, raven haired sister, before he shoved it away -focusing on Catherine instead.

"I can deal with her anger," Leonardo told her firmly. "And when I tell her what happened-"

"Trust me, you've never dealt with my sister's kind of anger."

"Raph-"

"Raph is a volcano," Elizabeth interrupted. "You can see Raph erupting and destroying everything in his path and if you are smart and quick, you can avoid all of the shit he is trying to throw your way. Cat... Cat's more like...a first snowfall. Everything is covered by a lovely, clean, white layer of fresh winter snow, but underneath, everything is being frozen to death, very slowly and right before your eyes, but you don't notice that everything is dead until it's too late."

Leonardo blinked. Raphael _wa_s a volcano, but his mind struggled to understand how the analogy of winter for Catherine would translate into actual practice. He stopped pacing and went and sat down next to Elizabeth, the smoky smell of incense pleasantly filling his nostrils again.

"I don't understand," he finally admitted, trying to ignore the heat that seemed to be radiating from Elizabeth's arm, which was apparently much too close to his own. He thought about shifting over further on the couch, but decided against the movement as it would only draw attention to his close presence and would probably insult her.

"Cat is very reasonable," Elizabeth began, dragging his mind away from the warmth of her arm and his eyes to her face.

Her expression was both thoughtful and serious; emotions that he never associated with Elizabeth, but found that after last night, he may have to readjust his perception of the younger sister.

"But," Elizabeth continued, "her being so reasonable is like a double edged sword," she warned. "I have no doubt that Cat has been sitting around furious with you for the past couple hours."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she waved it away.

"So then you show up and tell her that there is nothing to be angry about, that you didn't ditch her -and that's good- but she's still angry, only now her anger is focused on Raph, which is fine, that's the way it should be. Except that during the time she was angry with _you_, she has already picked apart your relationship and decided that she is probably better off without you."

Leonardo felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach at her words.

"And telling her that it was Raph's fault; that Raph purposefully acted like a dick and set out to hurt her and you and screw everything up between you isn't going to do you any good. It makes it worse. It's like a mathematical equation; hurt still equals hurt even if it wasn't intended. The possibility of being hurt again is high -especially with Raph in the equation- and the probability that your relationship with Catherine is going to _actually_ go somewhere is low, so therefore, it is better for her to just cut her losses now before she ends up getting really hurt," she finished and gave him a level look. "See very reasonable. Kinda messed up, but reasonable."

Leonardo almost felt himself flinch at her bleak words.

"So if you want Cat to have nothing to do with you anymore -thanks to your brother- then please go ahead and try to talk to her now. Or you can let me tell her, and her temper will cool off and you won't seem so bad once she's given a few days to reassess her mathematical equation to one that is better for you. My opinion, leave, and if you really have to, call in the morning."

Leonardo tried to digest Elizabeth's words. On the one hand he knew she knew Catherine better than anyone else, on the other, it went against every fibre of his being not to apologize for both himself and for his brother. He opened his mouth to decline her offer but the doors to the living room suddenly slid open, silencing any words that he had been about to say.

Elizabeth let out a squeak and dropped her knitting needles as Leonardo felt himself flush, leaping up from his spot beside Elizabeth on the couch.

He grimaced inwardly as he did this because he realized that doing so made him look as if he was guilty of something. With the closed door, their hushed voices, Elizabeth's startled cry and his position beside the younger sister, Catherine could only come to the conclusion that he had been doing something inappropriate with Elizabeth.

"It...it's not what it looks like," he stammered out, and wanted to palm slap his forehead for the idiotic words that had tumbled out of his mouth. Elizabeth hand no compunction against denying herself this action and he could see out of the corner of his eyes her palm hit her forehead as she let of a groan dismay.

If Catherine hadn't thought he was guilty before, his words only exacerbated the situation. But truthfully he had panicked, so much so that his heart was beating frantically in his chest and his skin tingled with adrenalin.

Catherine stood in the doorway -face unreadable- wearing plaid black and white flannel pants and a t-shirt covered with a thin sweater she was holding wrapped around herself. She looked as if she was just about to go to bed, or had been in bed. This assumption was only ruined by the black cat-eared hat that she wore on her head which trailed down the front of her body almost like a scarf.

Catherine's green eyes searched his face and he felt as if she was digging down and reaching into the very corners of his mind, and he found that Elizabeth's earlier words suddenly gained weight and merit. "So you weren't sitting in here with my sister talking about me in an unflattering way; ff the guilty looks on both your faces are anything to go by?" she inquired, lifting a single dark eyebrow, face still unreadable.

He wasn't able to agree or disagree with Catherine's inquiry because he didn't know if acknowledging her to be correct would help him or just dig his already deep grave even deeper.

"The hat turned out good." Elizabeth suddenly offered as if to distract her sister from her thoughts.

Catherine's green eyes slid past him to Elizabeth and he found he was able to breathe again. Leonardo couldn't even tell if Catherine was angry but after Elizabeth's warnings, he truthfully didn't think he wanted to find out.

"Yes, it did." Catherine smiled, warmth lighting her face and eyes." I like it. And it's warm." She gave another smile. "I thought I heard voices coming from in here. I had hoped that I wasn't interrupting a tête à tête with someone, but I wanted to show how well the hat turned out since I wasn't able to try it on earlier today."

Elizabeth smiled back at her sister, before she frowned in confusion. "Are you feeling okay?" she ventured. "You left dishes in the sink..."

"I know. I'm sorry." She flashed a brief smile. "I was cold, frustrated, annoyed, tense and needed to think. So I went upstairs and had a bath and I wanted to be warm and cozy so I put the hat back on," she admitted. "I was just about to do the dishes but I wanted to listen to some music so I was going to get my phone which I had left in my jacket. I grabbed my phone and then I heard voices coming from in here and I decided to show you your lovely handiwork." Catherine gave Elizabeth a smile which was returned.

Catherine's words also explained why she hadn't answered her cell phone, because she hadn't heard it ring.

Glancing back at him Catherine frowned in confusion. "What are you doing here, Leonardo? You usually don't come over so late," she observed.

"Raph didn't give me your message," he quickly admitted his heart still racing uncomfortably as he tried to control his temper that suddenly flared as he mentioned his red masked brother's name.

Catherine turned her moss green gaze towards him and he could see her eyes begin to lighten slightly, but her face remained impassive, completely devoid of emotion as she studied him, and he had to admit that he nearly quailed under that calm gaze.

"I know," she finally answered walking into the room.

Leonardo felt his breath exit his lungs in relief which was quickly followed by confusion. "You know?"

"I stopped by earlier and gave the invitation to Raphael, but I truthfully didn't think he would give it to you," she admitted. "I hoped he would, but your brother can be...difficult," she added diplomatically as she frowned. "But how did you know?" she asked tipping her head to the side in question.

"Mikey overheard your invitation and asked me how dinner was," he answered studiously avoiding any reference to Michelangelo calling dinner with Catherine a 'date'.

Catherine straightened her head and nodded.

"So you're angry with Raph?" Elizabeth ventured hesitantly.

"Well I wouldn't be angry with Leonardo. It's not like he can show up somewhere he didn't know he was supposed to be," Catherine answered reasonably.

Leonardo felt almost all of his muscles release their tension as his shoulders sagged with relief.

"And I'm not angry with Raphael, annoyed but not angry."

"You're not?" Elizabeth asked in confusion.

"I-"

Leonardo faced Catherine and interrupted what she had been about to say. Catherine had every right to be angry with Raphael, and he would take his brother's burden of blame. He bent at the waist and bowed to her. "Catherine, please accept my apology for both myself and my brother. I will deal with Raphael when I get home."

"Apology not accepted," Catherine coolly informed him.

Leonardo straightened and looked at her in surprise. Elizabeth made some sort of shocked sound that was quickly silenced.

Catherine rolled her eyes and shook her head, a half smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I'm not going to let you apologize for yourself because you have nothing to apologize for, and I am not going to let you apologize for your brother."

"I am the older brother and the leader of my clan. My brother acted-"

"Like an ass." Catherine finished wryly, the half smile still playing about on her face. "But I expected him to act that way. I figured that in this instance Raphael had a right to be angry with me. After all, while you were out with my sister I didn't exactly correct Raphael's assumption that I was Elizabeth when he cornered me at the museum. I owed him an apology for that and I figured that he would show up eventually to gloat, or rant, or whatever." She waved her hand dismissively. "He came over, I fed him, we talked -hashed things out as it were- and he left after he told me he disliked me and that my hair was stupid. So all in all, I think it went as well as could be expected."

Leonardo attempted to digest this, his brain unable to process the fact that Catherine had been out with Raphael last night. He felt oddly...annoyed and angry. His anger only increased when he heard his brother's insult and then his mind caught up with the rest of her words and he frowned, not having noticed anything about her hair. But in his defense it was mostly obscured by the hat/scarf thing she wore.

As if sensing his scrutiny she pulled the hat from her head to reveal onyx locks with streaks of fiery crimson.

Elizabeth quickly stood and walked over to Catherine running her hands through her sister's hair. "Well, I like it. It's nice seeing you with your natural hair colour. Blondes may have more fun, but we are the ones that men's mothers warn them about." Elizabeth gave a wink and pulled at a crimson lock. "I suppose the red was unfortunate since it is 'Raph's colour'," Elizabeth did the air quotes. "But I like the red and it was good for the shoot. But don't worry, give it a few washes and it will fade to pink."

Catherine chuckled and Leonardo felt himself feeling surprised that Catherine's hair was actually black as opposed to the russet, gold and copper locks that she usually sported. But looking at the two women side by side, he realized that Elizabeth's statement was true; they were the type of women that men's mothers _did _warn them about.

"I like your hair," he offered up with a smile, but truthfully he found himself wishing that her hair had been streaked with blue rather than red. Crimson was Raphael's 'colour' and having it streaked through Catherine's hair sent a surprise jolt of jealousy through him. But it wasn't as if he could ask her to change it.

"Are you sure?" Catherine asked him, as if his opinion actually meant something.

He nodded because if Elizabeth was right, in a few washes it would be pink rather than red anyway, and he would be okay with that.

Catherine gave him a searching look and he smiled more, hoping that it finally managed to reach his eyes.

She finally gave a slow nod before turning her attention to her sister. "So I am guessing that you were telling Leonardo about how angry I would be and for him to run and get out while he still could?" Catherine inquired with a lift of her eyebrow.

"Of course. I like him in one piece," Elizabeth answered flirtatiously. "Besides, I've barely managed to get away unscathed when you're pissed. I figured you were in Ice Queen mode and that you had mentally tarred and feathered him and boiled him in oil, and wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise to actually _explain_ what had happened."

Catherine laughed. "I'm not unreasonable, Lizzy," Catherine shook her head back and forth. "If I give a message to Raphael for Leonardo to show up and he doesn't, my first thought wouldn't be that he stood me up. My first thought would be that the message wasn't delivered."

"I will deal with Raphael when I get home." Leonardo interjected, his thoughts returning to his hot-headed brother.

"Why?" she asked and he heard a sharp edge to her voice that surprised him.

"He insulted you-"

Catherine gave him a smile that had him cutting off his own words; because her smile was not friendly. "I can handle myself, Leonardo," her voice and expression gentled. "My feelings weren't hurt and I wasn't actually expecting you to show up for dinner anyway. So…no harm no foul. I can understand that you thought I was angry and upset with you, but I wasn't. So I am asking you to just let it go. Yelling and lecturing Raphael won't do any good. He knows he's in the wrong and pointing it out to him will only feed his anger."

"Wait," Elizabeth said lifting up a hand. "Why does Raph get a free pass? He acted like a complete and total ass. Unless...oh did you already rip him a new one?"

"No. Like I said, we talked, sometimes he yelled, I didn't throw things at him. It went rather well I think."

"I call boo. He should have-"

"Raphael acting like an ass was not wholly his fault. I figured he had a good reason to be lashing out the way he was."

"Oh come on! You are never that understanding with me!" Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest with a wounded pout of her lips that Leonardo found oddly seductive.

Leonardo shook his head back and forth as Catherine chuckled.

"Lizzy," she mused, "everything I have ever lectured you about has been because it was _your_ fault."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest.

"Dave was your fault because _you_ invited him along." Catherine interrupted the protest. Elizabeth snapped her mouth shut before opening it again."And the time at the arena, also your fault. There was a sign. Right in front of the tank. In big red letters."

"But-"

"The car, also your fault. You shouldn't have been wearing those shoes."

Elizabeth deflated and let out a soft grumble under her breath. Leonardo wondered who 'Dave' was, what had happened with the 'tank' and what happened to whose car and with what shoes.

"Fine," Elizabeth reluctantly acceded, dropping her hands to her sides. "So...if you're not pissed... why didn't you answer the phone when Leo called?" Elizabeth asked in confusion.

"The home phone?"

Elizabeth nodded.

Catherine frowned and pulled her cell phone from…her waistband? She didn't appear to have any pockets to hold the phone and she pulled it out from somewhere slightly behind her back, but just out of his line of sight.

She dialled a number and waited. They all listened intently finally hearing a pathetic ring emanating from somewhere in the room.

Walking over to the couch Catherine reached between the cushions of the couch, pulling out the ringing phone. Catherine hung it up. "So, one phone in the couch, and I would bet money that the other one is dead somewhere... like the basement."

Elizabeth blinked. "Whoops." Elizabeth blushed, the pink of embarrassment flushing her cheeks. "I was talking to Sabrina about what we were going to do for the photo shoot and what we were going to do with your hair and the phone was about to die so I was looking for the other one and it must have fallen into the couch after I was done with it. "

Catherine gave a roll of her eyes as she shook her head. Elizabeth grinned before turning her speculative green gaze towards him. "So...since you're here and Cat didn't go all 'Evil Ice Queen', you gonna stick around?"

"I…don't…" he stammered, not actually having thought further ahead than just apologizing to Catherine.

"I'll take that as a yes. Cat?" she inquired and Leonardo realized Catherine was in her pajamas and ready for bed.

He felt himself blush. "I should get going."

"What did you have in mind, Lizzy?" Catherine asked with a raised eyebrow ignoring his words.

"Slumber party," Elizabeth smiled deviously.

Catherine looked at Leonardo speculatively and he took a step backwards, swallowing nervously as his skin suddenly felt overly warm.

"And Leo here looks like he's already ready for bed, so I'm the only one that needs to get changed."

Leonardo looked down at his training clothes.

"Though no offense, Blue, but you are smelling a_ little_ on the ripe side," Elizabeth observed.

Leonardo felt himself blush and resisted the urge to smell under his arms because now that she mentioned it, he could smell himself, and she was correct in her observation; he stank.

He took a step back and away from the two women.

"I-" he began at the same time Catherine protested "Lizzy!"

But Elizabeth had already turned her attention away from him and was looking at her sister.

Leonardo didn't think he would be able to be more embarrassed or uncomfortable than he already was, but he was wrong, so very wrong.

"But that's okay, we like men to smell like men, don't we, Cat?" Elizabeth winked.

"Well, it tends to be more attractive than a man who smells like a woman," Catherine observed logically.

"I'm not a man." Leonardo ground out in bitter irritation, trying to cover up his flustered embarrassment and remind himself that he wasn't human and never would be.

Elizabeth lost her teasing smile and raked him up and down with a heated glance that had him looking around the vicinity to see if she had set the room on fire.

"You look like a man to me," Elizabeth told him seriously before she threw her sister a teasing look. "Doesn't he, Kitty?"

"I've never thought otherwise," Catherine admitted, her own eyes studying him intently.

Elizabeth laughed and he gave another embarrassed cough.

The room, no, the house suddenly felt too small and confined and he knew he needed to get out. "I should really go," he mumbled uncomfortably.

"You keep saying that, and yet you are still standing here," Elizabeth teased. "Maybe you should go," Elizabeth mused as she turned and walked from the room with a punctuating sway of her hips. "But just because you _should_ do something, doesn't mean you are _going_ to," she threw over her shoulder, voice low and seductive as she vanished down the darkened hallway.

Catherine stared after Elizabeth for a moment, her face contemplative, before she turned her attention back to him and he swallowed roughly under her intense green gaze.

"Now what did you do last night that suddenly has you beeping on my sister's radar?" Catherine wondered.

"N-nothing," he stammered out a protest as he felt himself blushing even more than he already was.

Catherine didn't seemed to be bothered by her own words and didn't seem annoyed or jealous. Catherine chuckled."It's okay, this is just how she gets. You blush too easily. But you should probably run," Catherine observed with a wry smile. "With the mood El is in, she's likely going to try to braid the ties of your mask, talk about boys just to see exactly what shade of dark green she can turn your cheeks, and generally try to either make you uncomfortable or angry...or both."

He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement, because he didn't know what to say to her words. Instead he turned to more serious matters. "I truly am sorry for the way my brother acted towards you."

Catherine narrowed her eyes and tipped her head to the side in contemplation before her head straightened as if coming to a conclusion of some sort. "I suppose you can be upset that Raphael's actions had the intent to hurt me, but because they didn't, I don't see why it's a big deal. I let it go, maybe you should too."

"He tried to ruin-" he cut his sentence off as he realized what he had been about to say, but Catherine finished his words for him.

"Our date?" she inquired. He felt his heart speed up and his breath catch with uncertainty. "Would you have even come had you known that I had invited you to dinner? On a date?" she asked the inflection of her voice completely neutral; no hurt, no curiosity, no anger, just a simple question; one he was hard pressed to actually answer.

He opened his mouth but no words came out.

"So instead of being angry with Raphael, perhaps you should be thanking him for helping you dodge a bullet." Again no emotional inflection, but he did catch a hint of hurt that flashed in her eyes before she turned away from him, walking towards the door.

Remembering Elizabeth's earlier words about the mathematical equation in Catherine's head he felt panic flare through him at the thought of her walking away from him, forever.

His hand shot out and wrapped around her upper arm, effectively pulling her to a stop. She didn't look at him just waited patiently for him to say something.

"I could never forgive myself if something ever happened to you, or your sister, because of me, and because of what me and my family are," he whispered, a hint of anger in his voice at the fickleness of Fate who had given he and his family so much, and yet, kept so much more just out of their reach.

Catherine tensed and she looked over her shoulder at him, eyes steady and a slightly lighter green. He looked at her a moment, and he realized that her eyes appeared more luminous now that her hair was as black as obsidian; the red streaks added a flash of crimson fire which complimented her features. Pushing this thought aside, he instead could offer up nothing more. He let her arm go, but she didn't move.

Finally she turned around so that she was again facing him. "Don't protect me, Leonardo, I don't need it."

He opened his mouth again, but she made a slicing movement with her hands that cut him off.

Voice gentling slightly she even managed a half smile. "I'm not asking you to move in with me or marry me," she pointed out reasonably. "All I was asking for was for you and I to acknowledge that there is something between us that might go somewhere. I'm not even asking for you to be my boyfriend. At the moment all I want is for you to open yourself to the possibility of you and I being more than just friends, that's it. If you can't or if I have misunderstood your signals, I would rather know right now -either way- so that I can either move on, or wait for you to figure things out."

"I would be better for you to move on, Catherine. Forget me and my family," he told her seriously.

"I suppose it _would_ be, wouldn't it?" With that Catherine turned and left the room, leaving him standing alone in the center of the living room.

He stood there a few moment before letting out a frustrated, bitter breath and walking from the living room. Glancing down the hall to his right he could hear the clinking of glasses coming from the kitchen, but could not actually see Catherine. He turned left, heading for the door.

He stood in the in the ornate foyer for a moment before reaching out and clasping the door latch.

He paused.

He could tell himself that he was tired, frustrated and angry, and just wanted to go home, but he didn't want to go home. He then tried telling himself that the only reason he didn't want to go home was because if he did he would run into his red masked brother, which meant that he would have to deal with Raphael -his anger, and his childish antics.

But he couldn't lie to himself.

If he stayed he would have to admit that he couldn't let Catherine or Elizabeth go, and that even though he knew it would be better to just walk out that door, right here and right now, he found himself pulling his hand away from the latch.

Because he was being selfish.

He _wanted_ to be selfish. He _deserved_ to be selfish, because for once in his life he felt comfortable in his own skin. He didn't feel like a freak of nature.

He felt like breaking away from the normalcy of his routine and the brutal, bitter struggle to survive; to fight, to protect, to sacrifice, and to give up everything for both his family and this city.

And yet still he struggled with himself.

Reaching up his hand to grasped the latch again, but found his heart wasn't into it. He _should_ leave, but he wasn't going to. It _would_ be better if Catherine and Elizabeth walked away from him and his family, but they weren't going to. So in the end it was a moot point, because they weren't going to let him win.

Letting out a soft, defeated breath, he pulled off his boots, placed them neatly at the door and took off his coat, hanging it up in the closet. He then turned and saw Catherine standing behind him by the banister. So deep within his thoughts had he sunk that she had managed to walk up behind him so silently that he hadn't even noticed.

She handed him a bottle of wine; three wine glasses held in her other hand, because she had known he would stay. He didn't comment on this, but instead silently took the bottle from her grasp. She then offered him her hand and he stared at it a moment before he took it in his own. She gave him a gentle smile and led the way up the stairs, not letting go of his hand, and he being in no rush to remove it from her warm grasp.

* * *

**Awwhhh kinda sweet, yes? No? hmm Leo what are you getting yourself into?! LOL**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello all, next chapter is up!**

**As always a giant thank you to all my reviewers Shurikan-fury, Laurakiath, adventuresstime, ougi-san, Cocoagurl, The Nerdfighter, CraztGeekyLove, I love kittens too, Kimmie98 and SleepingSeeker. Thank you guys sooo much! XD**

** And just a warning, contains scenes of suggested adult content and Raphael dropping the F-bomb a few times...Just to let you know...**

* * *

Chapter 16

_**Raphael's** fingers slid across the velvety surface of an alabaster cheek. Thumb stroking across the unbelievably soft surface, he performed this action again, reveling in the feel of her skin and the warm satin smoothness of it._

_Staring into moss green eyes he paused for a moment drowning in those twin pools before he slowly closed his own eyes, claiming her petal soft lips in a hungry kiss; his body pressed against her crushing her against the wall. _

_She let out a soft moan, part hunger, part surprise, part pleasure; which only spurred him to redouble his efforts._

_His fingers buried themselves into her raven locks and the smooth silk of her tresses made him shudder as he clutched at the strands, pulling her head back, breaking their kiss._

_She whimpered in protest until he buried his beak into her throat. She let out a gasp, her fingernails digging into the fabric that was stretched across his shoulders._

_He nuzzled her neck before he dragged his teeth across her sensitive flesh. His lips kissed a trail up to her ear before taking that delicate piece of flesh between his teeth and giving her ear a soft nip._

_Her back arched pressing all of her curves against his plastron. Pulling away, his lips found hers again as she tried to devour him. Her hands tangled themselves into the ties of his mask, her other hand gently brushing across his cheek before sliding down and wrapping around his waist, pulling him in closer and grinding his throbbing length across her belly._

_He made a choked sound, somewhere between a growl and a groan and knew that he needed more. He pulled his fingers from her hair and drifted them down her clothing which was tightly stretched against her body before cupping her ass and pulling her up against him._

_Wrapping her legs around his hips her heat pressed against him and he stumbled backwards, the back of his calves hitting his bed causing him to fall back onto his mattress, dragging her along with him. _

_She sat up, straddling him and he let out a groan of pleasure as she ground her heat into him. She smiled a mischievous, seductively teasing smile as she moved her hips again, sending another wave of pleasure through him._

_In the back of his mind he thought that it should be Elizabeth sitting above him, teasing and tormenting him, except..._

_He reached out, tugging at a crimson lock of fire that was streaked through her long, curling, raven coloured hair._

_That small piece of colour -his colour- was like a beacon, a tangible symbol of the passion that Catherine always kept hidden underneath her cool composed exterior. Only, she had let him see it; had unleashed it upon him and he was helpless against it..._

_She leaned down claiming his lips in a searing kiss that left him breathless and nearly keening with need._

_In one swift movement he rolled her beneath him, the warmth of her now naked skin burned into his own as he continued to plunder her mouth. Her soft tongue rolled across his own as she invaded his mouth, determined to destroy any and all resistance that he had. _

_He felt her hands suddenly slide beneath his shirt and he pulled away, fear shooting through him, but it was too late. Her impatient fingers deftly yanked the shirt from his body and his breath snagged in his throat._

_Heart slamming against his ribcage he looked down at his torso as her fingers gently roved over the scutes of his plastron and across the skin between his plastron and carapace._

_Breathing out a sigh of relief at what must have been some sort of horrific nightmare, Catherine grabbed the ties of his mask, roughly yanking him down so that he was beak to nose with her._

_Her dusky lashed luminous green eyes were dark, nearly black with desire. Her breathing was hitched and her pulse was beating quickly at her throat._

_"Please," she begged, her voice low, throaty and almost harsh with desire. "Raphael." She lifted her hips and ground against him to punctuate her pleas._

_His name slid across her lips and made his skin tingle. He told himself that he hated it when she said his name, but the truth was, his name sounded like the sweetest word ever said when it crossed her honey sweet lips. _

_He wasn't sure why._

_Maybe it was her Canadian accent that made it sound so good, but he believed this was only part of it, the other part being the way she said his name. When his father or his brothers said his full name, it was usually a harsh, quick, grating sound of reprimand and disappointment. But with her, her voice was never angry, always even, and sometimes even filled with teasing humour. _

_But even this wasn't fully what caused his name to sound so good when she spoke it; it was the way she _pronounced_ it that really seemed to make him take notice. When she said his name she would pause -ever so slightly- on the long 'I' sound of his name. Raph- I- her tongue caressing over this vowel and punctuating it just enough to be noticeable, before finishing it off with a soft -el. _

_It sent shivers across his flesh each and every time she said his name, and no matter how many times he had told her to call him 'Raph' she never listened; torturing him each and every single time his name crossed her beautiful, delicious, petal soft, cupid's bow lips._

_He dragged his tongue across her mouth and she moaned opening her mouth in response. Her breasts brushed up against his plastron making him groan as he devoured her lips; crushing them with his want, his need and his burning desire to claim her as his own. _

_She whimpered with need and he couldn't control his lust any longer. He needed her. He needed to feel her all around him, enveloping him with her heat and the velvet softness of her skin._

_His pants and underwear vanished and he slowly dragged a hand down her belly, stroking his thumb across her hip._

_Pausing he realized that he had no idea what he was doing, yet somehow this thought seemed suddenly far away and not very important because as he stretched out on top of her, he found himself easily sliding into her moist warm depths. _

_The breath was driven from his lungs and he felt himself teetering on the edge. Opening his eyes -which he hadn't even realized he had closed- he stared down at Catherine. She was so beautiful; so breathtakingly beautiful that it made it hard to look at her sometimes because something like him should not be allowed to touch such perfection. But right now she didn't seem to realize this because she was looking up at him with darkened, lust filled eyes begging for him to touch her; all of her._

_Growling low in his throat he buried his beak in her neck before sliding his head over, teeth finding her shoulder and biting down into her flesh, both to hold her still and to mark her. He was claiming her as his own with his scent, his sex, and his bite._

_She let out a gasp of pain that quickly changed into a groan of pleasure as he moved within her, in and out, pleasure and pressure building low in his belly._

_Nails dug into his flesh at his shoulders. "Raphael," she called out his name as she arched beneath him. _

_"Catherine," he breathed out her name as if it was a reverent whisper of prayer, of miracle, of worship, and he felt himself tumble over the edge, his body shuddering with release._

Sitting straight up Raphael took in a gasp of air as he twisted falling hard onto the floor in a heap of blankets and couch cushions.

Heart pounding painfully in his chest he looked around and found himself in the living room of the lair, the TV showing some sort of Animal Planet shit he could care less about.

His skin tingled and felt overly flushed and warm; his body shaking, breathing heavy with exertion. Sweat beaded across his flesh and he tired to catch his breath, his mind desperately grasping at his tumultuous thoughts, trying to make sense of what was going on.

Swallowing roughly, the faint waves of his orgasm still flowed through him like a soft phantom touch of pleasure.

His eyes focused on the TV as horror slowly seeped into his brain where it jumped, danced and twirled across his body.

"_Adelie Penguins can mate for life, forming monogamous pair bonds..."_

The narrator on the TV program said in the background.

Raphael gave a slow blink staring at the TV as the two black and white penguins cuddled into each other against the harsh chill of their icy surroundings.

While part of his brain was trying to convince him that everything was perfectly fine and normal, the other part was having a panic attack.

_Imprinting occurs so that..._

Very slowly and carefully Raphael picked up the blanket that had fallen off the couch with him, and peeked beneath it.

Confirming his worst fears he froze, renewed horror and shock filling him as he quickly bolted to his feet. His eyes quickly scanned the area and he saw no one and heard nothing.

He wasn't sure if he had cried out Catherine's name in his sleep or if it had only been in his head, but whatever the case he was not staying in the living room only to have one of his brothers stumble upon him; skin flushed, body shaking, and the wetness of his release slowly seeping through his jeans.

Dashing to the bathroom on the main floor he slammed the door shut, locked it and turned on the cold water in the shower. He stepped in fully clothed, hand clasped around the cold water tap as if it were the only thing keeping him upright; and maybe it was.

He let the water attempt to cool his fiery skin, but it didn't seem to be helping because he couldn't seem to get the image of Catherine's curvaceous, alabaster skinned body out of his mind. Even though he had never actually seen Catherine naked, his mind had happily filled in the details anyway; no doubt using the woman from Michelangelo's stupid comic book.

Dragging in one shuddering breath after another he tried to get his breathing and his heart rate under some kind of control and found that he couldn't.

He had never had a dream like the one he had just experienced. He had heard of wet dreams before -courtesy of Casey- but had never had one, and didn't think he ever would. Of course he had never thought he would ever kiss a human woman either so that just went to show that the day had been full of things he had never thought would happen.

He closed his eyes against the icy water that ran down his heated face.

It was like some horrible nightmare. Not one that came with teeth and claws to rip and tear into his psyche and drive him insane, but rather, one which drifted in on soft, black, butterfly wings to taunt, tease, tempt and to drive him wholly and completely into another form of insanity.

_What the hell is wrong with me?! _his own voice screamed at him from within his head as he placed his forehead against the cold, wet tile in front of him.

Opening his eyes he watched as the water swirled around his feet. He turned the water off as a horrifying thought suddenly struck him. He slowly lifted his forehead from the slick tile in front of him.

Terror flowed through him as he stumbled from the shower. Throwing open the door in front of him he ran from the bathroom -still soaking wet- his feet pounding upon the hard stone he ran to the lab, searching for his younger, genius brother. Not finding him there he ran up the stairs to his brother's room. He threw the door open and- surprisingly- found Donatello curled up and asleep upon his bed.

Striding into the room he kicked the door closed behind him with his foot. The noise wok Donatello who sat bolt up in bed and blinked at him owlishly.

"Raph?" his genius brother queried; eyes darting to his clock which read 3:00am before swinging back to Raphael. Panic suddenly filled Donatello's eyes as he threw off his covers and leapt out of bed. "What's wrong? You're soaked." Donatello's voice fought for calm even as fear filled his chocolate brown eyes.

Three steps and Raphael was standing in front of Donatello, digging his hands into his brother's t-shirt and hauling him up off the ground so that their beaks were almost touching.

Donatello's eyes widened in shock and terror as he struggled against Raphael's punishing grip.

"Do turtles mate for life?" he asked his voice raspy and shaking.

"W-what?!" Donatello yelped out in surprise.

"Do. Turtles. Mate. For. Life?" he enunciated each and every single syllable of each and every single word. He had never really thought about the fact that he was a turtle; which was ridiculous because of _course_ he was a turtle, albeit a mutant one. But rather than focusing on the turtle part of it, he usually focused on the not-human/not turtle part of it. And because he knew he shared more in common with a human than a turtle floating about in a glass terrarium, he equated himself more with humans. Which meant that he never really considered before that there may be an animalistic, primitive part of him that was still turtle, which had the ability to effect his thoughts and his actions.

"No," Donatello shook his head back and forth, but Raphael didn't let go; not yet.

"Are you sure?" he asked, voice intense, measured, but still containing a hint of panic. "Are you sure we don't imprint on a female and pick a mate for life or...or have a mating season or any of that kind of shit?" His voice was sounding panicked but the only way he could explain his x-rated dream and Catherine having a starring role in it was because when he had kissed her this yesterday and rubbed his scent across her cheek, he had imprinted on her. Something in the primitive part of his brain was somehow activated by this and he now saw Catherine as his mate or his woman or whatever. This was the only explanation he could come up with as to why the dream version of himself felt no surprise at it being Catherine that he held tightly in his arms, kissed breathless, and-

_Fuck! _he snarled internally.

Even now- when he should be trying to replace Catherine with Elizabeth in his mind, he couldn't quite seem to do it. Instead his thoughts sat squarely upon the older sister, her eyes dark with heated desire, looking at him as if she wanted nothing more than for him to push her back into the mattress she lay upon, hair spread out across his pillow like a dark halo around her head, legs spread beneath him begging for-

_What the HELL! _he screamed in his head.

A bolt of renewed lust drove through him at his thoughts which nearly had him falling to his knees. Gritting his teeth together he accidently tightened his grip on Donatello and his younger brother made a strangled 'grk' kind of sound that had him immediately releasing his grip on his brother's shirt.

"Sorry," he mumbled under his breath as Donatello clutched at his throat and glared at him.

"Raph, what is going on?" Donatello asked patiently but with a hint of irritated heat in his voice.

"Just answer the question, Genius," he snapped. He did not need Donatello poking and prodding at him and trying to figure out what was going on in his head, because truthfully, _he_ didn't even want to know.

"Yes, I'm sure. Turtles in general don't form any particular social bonds at all. They hatch they go out into the world alone and generally keep to themselves except for mating or occasionally basking together, depending on the turtle species. Turtles don't imprint, that tends to be a trait found in freshly hatched birds, and as for a mating 'season'," he used air quotes, opened his mouth and paused, snapping his beak shut and frowning in thought. "I don't...Turtles who make it to sexual maturity will have the urge to find a sexually compatible female to mate with. If we would have been subject to this type of...urge, we would have experienced it years ago."

"Maybe there weren't any sexually compatible females around," he growled feeling desperate. He was thankful that they didn't mate for life and that they didn't imprint, but felt as if there had to be some explanation as to why he had dreamt of Catherine. Just because he had accidently kissed Catherine didn't mean that he had _wanted _to kiss her. His mind should have easily been able to replace Catherine with Elizabeth because Elizabeth was the one he was interested in, so it didn't make sense.

Hell, even now, he could still feel his body burning for Catherine's touch.

He began to pace in Donatello's cramped room, his feet stepping on clothes, paper and nearly tripping over scattered piles of books that littered the floor.

_And Leo bitches about my room,_ he grumbled in his head.

Donatello spoke again."It is possible that we hadn't encountered any compatible women, except that we would have actively sought out one. And if we had found one, we would have all fought over her for the chance to mate with her. So for example, all of us would have fought over April all those years ago since we were well...fifteen and sexually mature when we saved her from Stockman's mousers."

"Yeah, and you were the only one who wanted to tap that, right Donny?" he teased.

Donatello coughed with embarrassment, a dark blush spreading across in his cheeks. "Socially we are more human than turtle," Donatello said firmly ignoring Raphael's teasing jab. "Why? Is something happening to you that you need to talk about? Do you-"

"NO!" he snapped, his smile falling from his face as he took a step back. "Nothing's wrong, everythin's fine. Just...stupid Animal Planet," he growled. "Go back to sleep."

"Raph!" Donatello reached out to stop him but Raphael was already at the door, opening it, and closing it in his concerned brother's face.

He was wide awake and knew he wasn't going to sleep anymore tonight, not that he wanted to anyway. He ran a hand down his face and walked to his room, closing and locking the door behind him. Pulling off his sopping wet shirt, he threw it to the ground. His hand hovered over his plastron and left side. In his dream Catherine had taken off his shirt, but in his dream his flesh and plastron had been as they had been, not as they were now.

This thought alone sent a wave of pure rage through him. He couldn't control the anger that filled every single cell in his body. He was furious because he felt...helpless.

All he seemed to be able to do was push everyone away and alienate them, and he had no choice because that is where they all needed to stay; as far away from him as they could possibly get because he was dangerous.

And he had done a hell of a job too.

Because Michelangelo had overheard part of his conversation with Catherine, his baby brother knew that Leonardo was supposed to be with Catherine and had told Leonardo about his dinner invite hours too late.

This meant that Leonardo was livid, Michelangelo was less than impressed, Donatello was disappointed and Elizabeth was no doubt fuming over the fact that he had messed with her sister.

The only one who wasn't pissed off at him right now was the one who should be. Catherine should have ripped a strip off him; instead she apologized to him, fed him probably the best damn burger he had ever eaten, and accepted the fact that he told her he hated her without even a blink of her beautiful green eyes.

_So why the hell wasn't she angry? _he wondered, because he sure as hell was. He was shaking with rage and it had nowhere to go but out.

In an explosion of mindless rage he swept his arms across his desk, dumping the contents on the floor.

_"__I think it's __you__ who doesn't think you're smart enough or good enough..." _Catherine's words rang in his ears, striking the same truthful chord they had struck when she had first said them.

He winced as a nearly physical pain struck him. He needed to get Catherine out of his head, but he didn't know how. He needed to talk to Casey.

Digging into his sopping wet jeans pocket he pulled out his cell, which was dripping with water, the display blank and dark.

Staring at his phone in sudden fury he threw the useless chunk of technology across the room, where it shattered satisfyingly against the brick wall.

Hopeless.

That is how he felt, completely and utterly hopeless; trapped and overwhelmed by his own inability to control his body or his mind because of something that had happened over four years ago. Four fucking _YEARS _and the memories still haunted him.

And Catherine had shown him this bitter, harsh and brutal truth.

If it hadn't been for her, he could have been happily pursuing Elizabeth; but because of her, she had shown him how truly broken he was.

And he hated her for it.

Seething he picked up his desk chair and threw it across his room where the wooden chair smashed against the wall, splintering to pieces with an even more satisfying crash than the cell phone had given him.

Shelves went flying, nick-knacks broke and shattered, and posters were ripped from his wall, but still his rage was not assuaged. His foot kicked his side table across the room, his alarm clock hit the floor and bounced once before it rolled. Striding over to the offending clock he stepped on it, smashing and grinding the plastic under his sopping socked foot.

And still the RAGE wanted, no, _needed_ to be fed.

He tore the drawers from his dresser scattering what little clothing had been inside upon the floor before tossing each of the five cheap drawers against the wall. Any that were not immediately obliterated by the force of being smashed into the wall were picked back up and the process repeated until such a time as they were no longer even a rectangular shape, nor identifiable as having been drawers in the first place. Kicking his heavy wooden desk a few times he cursed it's sturdy wooden construction and yanked out the two drawers, tossing them and their contents onto the floor.

His mattress suffered his wrath next. Pulling his sais from his belt he launched himself at his bed. The sharp points of his twin sais tore through his sheets and into the soft foam of the mattress where only fifteen minutes earlier he had been dreaming that he had been laying with Catherine on his bed, her responsive body beneath him-

Letting out a scream of frustration he ripped and tore at the foam, shredding it; his pillow suffering the same fate. Standing he yanked his brutalized mattress from the box spring and threw it across the room, blocking his door.

Chest heaving with exertion, his anger having abated somewhat his eyes scanned his room until they fell upon a piece of paper that had been dumped on the ground when he had overturned one of the desk drawers.

His breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the picture he had printed out of the Fairy Queen, before he had even known of or met Catherine and her sister.

He had spent so many nights lying on his bed, staring at the picture, trying to figure out what she looked like under that mask and what it was about her that had so struck his older brother. But he had never been able to figure anything out, only knowing that whoever she was, he liked the way she smiled.

But Catherine would never look at him or give him the warm, teasing, mischievous smile that she always gave Leonardo; no woman ever would because he was a freak, and not only that, a freak who was damaged goods.

Walking over he yanked the picture up off the ground, crumpling it in his fist before he pulled his jacket from the chaos that surrounded him. He dragged out the crumpled note that he had pulled from his jeans pocket earlier in the evening after he had sat upon the ledge of a building reviewing the night over and over while reading Catherine's note. He had eventually given up on figuring out what was wrong with him and shoved the note into his jacket pocket, which he now pulled out and crushed in his other fist.

He didn't' want Catherine, and didn't want anything to do with her.

Why he had kept the picture after he had met Catherine he wasn't sure. But kept it he had; and the note. It should have been tossed in the gutter or to the ground right after he had read it, but instead he had tucked it into his pocket, apparently for safe keeping.

Eyes scanning his room he dragged his wastebasket from where it had been kicked across the room. He righted it, a small amount of papers and wrappers having managed to survive the assault and remaining in the bin. Tossing the picture and the note into his wastebasket he hoped that this would exorcize Catherine from his mind. But this action did nothing to relieve the fury and desperation he felt rolling through him.

Hands diving through the mess on the floor he scrambled around, searching until he found a Zippo lighter.

His finger flicked across the rough wheel, the spark igniting the gas, the flame flaring to life. Staring at the flickering orange light for a moment he tossed the Zippo into the bin and watched as the flame caught the paper on fire.

One heart beat, two heart beats later he was pawing through the trash, trying to dig both the picture and the note out, beating out the flames that were hungrily eating away at the paper. Clearing a spot on the floor he carefully smoothed out both pieces of paper with shaking hands.

The picture was burned around one of the edges, the background had mostly been burnt, but the Fairy Queen's smiling face was still intact. His eyes then scanned the note. There wasn't much left of it. But part of her words remained. His name and '_I'm out in the garden'_. The post script had been burned away, but at least some of it still remained.

He stared at the two pieces of burnt paper, wondering what in the hell was wrong with him that he hadn't been able to burn them.

Dragging the undamaged desk drawer from the ground he carefully put the two pieces of paper into the bottom, tossing a few other thing on top he slid the drawer back into place.

He closed his eyes for a moment before roaring in anger again, and tossing the wastebasket against the wall as if it was its fault that he could burn her image and her words.

Hastily getting to his feet he stalked towards the mattress and pulled it away from the door tipping it onto the floor so that he could get out.

Pulling open his door he stalked out into the hallway. Michelangelo's door opened and his baby brother stuck his head out, frowning groggily. Donatello was obviously staying out of his way, but Michelangelo had been curious enough to open his door.

Stalking towards his baby brother, Michelangelo let out a squeak of horror and tried to close the door, but Raphael was quicker and stronger than his brother, pushing his door open and entering his baby brother's room.

His eyes scanned the room as Michelangelo backed away very slowly, hands raised defensively in front of him.

Finding what he was looking for he grabbed his baby brother's cell from his desk. He paused for a moment, the Harbinger comic he had given Michelangelo when he had finally come home sitting on his desk. His eyes scanned his brother's collection of comics, resting upon the other seven issues of the Harbinger series. He took all seven and turned, leaving the room without another word. Closing the door behind him he walked downstairs, throwing the comics on the coffee table he sat down on the couch and stared at the cell phone's screen.

Thoughts tumbling around in his head he tried to squash his anger. His fingers paused over the screen about to dial Casey's number, but he stopped himself; not because it was too late, but because he already knew what his friend would say.

He would tell Casey about kissing Catherine, and that he needed to get her out of his head, and then Casey would tease him and tell him to just kiss Elizabeth.

It was possible that he was projecting his thoughts into his friend's imaginary advice, but he knew that the suggestion was useless. After all, what was he supposed to do, kiss Elizabeth and tell her 'thanks for getting your sister out of my head' and then just walk away? And even if he did, would kissing Elizabeth even work?

It was ridiculous.

And if he talked to Casey, his friend would tell him that he wasn't broken and unstable and to go after Elizabeth anyway. And the worst part would be that he may be tempted, and that could never happen.

He stared at the phone for a few more minutes before his gaze swept around the room when he realized how quiet it was. Standing he frowned and placed Michelangelo's phone on the coffee table.

His older brother should have tried to get into Raphael' room while he was angrily trashing it. And even if his brother was waiting for him to come out of his bedroom Leonardo should have stormed into the living room and ripped a strip off him by now.

Only he hadn't.

The lair was surprisingly quiet and he knew Leonardo hadn't slept through him trashing his bedroom.

Slowly he walked to the dimly lit garage. His bike was there, but the truck was not.

He took in one deep breath followed by another as his mind spun and could only come to one conclusion; Leonardo had spent the night at Catherine's.

Like gasoline thrown onto still smouldering coals, his simmering anger was suddenly ignited into a firestorm of fury.

It made no sense, he couldn't explain it, but the thought that his brother was right now, lying in bed with Catherine, dragging his hands across her luscious, responsive curves-

His anger consumed him. It incinerated everything leaving nothing but a decimated smoking ruin that left him feeling cold and empty.

* * *

**Thoughts, opinions?**


	17. Chapter 17

**Alrighty all, hope everyone had an awesome weekend! :) And to make your Monday a little less painful (hopefully)...the next chapter of Cardinal Points!**

**A giant thank you as always to Lauraliath, Diana Fay, Kimmie98, Trunksynia, I love kitten too, Adevturesstime, cocoagurl, pugi-san, Wolfassassin369, rinpup14, The Nerdfighter, and SleepingSeeker. Thank you all so much for your amazing support and kind words!:)**

**And now...please enjoy:)**

* * *

Chapter 17

**Leonardo** tried to move, and instantly regretted the decision. It was dark but even with this visual impediment his world still managed to spin. He forced himself to crack open an eyelid wide enough to see the glowing numbers of a clock indicating that the time was 3:30 am.

Opening both eyes and groaning inwardly, he acknowledged that he should be getting back home, but couldn't seem to move. His body seemed to be caught in a tangle of too many arms, legs, and bodies, and the soft skin that brushed invitingly against his own bare skin was too pleasant; he felt warm, content and comfortable.

Taking in a deep breath, Catherine and Elizabeth's scents filling his nostrils, he settled back down. Besides being trapped and too comfortable to move, he numbly acknowledged to himself that he was still drunk. He had consumed too much wine on an empty stomach and couldn't go home even if he wanted to, and truthfully he didn't think he really wanted to. His eyes slid closed and he fell back into sleep.

Waking up several hours later didn't seem to be an improvement from the last time he tried to open his eyes. In fact it was worse; much, much worse. His world no longer spun, but his head felt foggy and pounded like a thousand drums were beating away painfully inside his head; each new beat sending a fresh wave of agony shooting through his brutalized brain.

Opening his eyes he winced and tried to sit up, but found this process to be more difficult than it should have been. The room was still dark -the blackout blinds doing their job magnificently- and lit only by the clock on the cable box proclaiming it to be 6:00 am.

He shifted again and there was a soft moan of discontent that came from beneath him which caused him to freeze, the remaining fuzziness and spider webs that had been floating around in his mind suddenly dissipating, leaving behind a very sharp and keen awareness.

Swallowing roughly he slowly took in his surroundings. He was on the leather couch that occupied the third floor theatre room. This was fine; however, he seemed to have been using a soft feminine body as a pillow. He was laying in such a way that his top half was lying on his side pinned between the back of the couch and a woman's body, his arm thrown across her bare stomach, his head using her cloth covered breast as a pillow. His bottom half was partially twisted towards the back of the couch where a woman's soft cheek was laying against what felt to be his bare thigh and was using it as a pillow.

Taking in one shaking breath after another he tried to grab onto his panic and shove it down because panicking wouldn't help him. He lay where he was and although his mind was a riot of tumultuous thoughts and feelings, his body seemed perfectly content to stay exactly where it was. In fact the longer he lay there, the more his body seemed to be perfectly willing to indulge its senses in the warm curves of the women pressed up against him.

Warm curves that seemed to be pressed against his bare skin...

He acknowledged numbly that being naked explained why he could feel so much warm skin pressed against his, but this thought was quickly replaced by a slow, icy terror that froze his body and his blood as he desperately tried to remember what had happened last night.

With his heart pounding wildly in his chest and the blood rushing through his ears he desperately tried to think, all the while trying to resist the urge to untangle himself from the two women, which would both disturb them and embarrass himself.

He took a deep breath followed by another. _I didn't...with both women...did I? Oh, God what happened last night?! _he asked himself fighting against his rising panic.

Lifting up his head he twisted slightly able to look down the length of his body and saw that he wasn't completely naked -he still wore his boxer shorts- but this was the only stitch of clothing he wore; which didn't help calm the horror that he felt over what he had possibly done.

Unfortunately his movement caused him to accidentally shift Elizabeth -he could see her short hair resting against his thigh- her velvety cheek sliding across his thigh stopping only a hair's breadth from his crotch.. He froze, his breath catching in his throat and his body responding with lust.

He closed his eyes and tried to restrain a whimper as his erection strained against the confines of his boxers, wanting the attention of the woman that had her head practically laying in his lap.

He could feel his heart in his throat as panic warred with lust. As horrified as he would be with himself if he _had_ engaged in a threesome with the women, there was tiny, primitive part of his masculine ego that felt rather pleased with itself. In fact it was so pleased with itself and so upset about the fact that it couldn't seem to remember what had happened last night, that it was forcefully encouraging him to revisit the scenario.

Catherine's flowery scent filled his nostrils, but the spice of Elizabeth's scent was strong as well, and he could admit that he liked Elizabeth's scent just as much as Catherine's; maybe even a little more.

His fingers brushed across the soft, sensitive skin of Catherine's taunt stomach and he revelled in the silky smoothness of it.

_What are you doing?! What is wrong with you?!_ His inner voice shouted at him scathingly. He was interested in Catherine and he wanted to pursue something serious with her, not be just a one night stand. And if he had...with her and her sister last night...then he could have ruined everything; between her and himself and...oh, God, Raphael.

Had he even once thought about his hot-headed brother and his feelings for Elizabeth last night? Somehow he didn't think he had, because if he would have, then he wouldn't be currently sandwiched between the two beautifully tempting women.

Praying he hadn't betrayed his red masked brother in the worst possible way, Leonardo began to very carefully extricate himself; heart heavy, and his stomach full of dread and guilt. He wasn't sure how long it took him to get free, but there were a few times when he had to stop, afraid that he was about to wake one, the other, or both women up.

Finally managing to get himself free, he looked at Catherine and Elizabeth lying on the couch. Catherine was still clothed in her pajamas, the t-shirt having rode up slightly exposing part of her stomach, the scoodie still perched on her head. Elizabeth was also still clothed and wore purple flannel pajamas with little white bunnies on them. Elizabeth had apparently been wearing a purple scoodie as well -hers had bunny ears- but it looked like it had slipped to the side, nearly falling off during the night.

He realized then that they had all just fallen asleep, toppling onto each other like dominos. Breathing out a huge sigh of relief he wildly searched around for his clothing, which he spotted in a neatly folded pile on the coffee table. His strained mind then remembered something about taking a shower and Catherine offering to wash his clothes because he couldn't stand the rank smell of himself anymore.

Shoulders slumping with relief he closed his eyes against the pain that felt like a sharp nail straight through his brain. Now that he wasn't terrified, horrified and lusting over the prospect of having engaged in a drunken threesome with the two twins, all of the physical effects of too much wine and no food suddenly hit him again.

Being vertical brought about a wave of nausea coupled with more pounding agony right behind his eyes. He scrambled for his clothes, pulling them on, and quickly making his way from the third floor, down the stairs to the front door where he grabbed his boots and snagged his jacket from the closet.

He walked to the back door where he put on his boots and coat, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head. Quietly he opened the door and locked it from the inside before closing it behind him. Striding outside he ignored the piercing pain the growing sunlight inflicted upon him and leapt over the fence of the garden, making his way back to where he had parked his truck.

Driving back to the lair he wracked his mind -even as the now sensitive organ protested this seemingly cruel act- to remember the previous evening. He had obviously drank too much, why, he had no idea, but there may have been a board game involved because he vaguely remembered something about pink elephants. But whatever the case he had decided to be reckless...again. And this time, being reckless could have cost him the things that were important to him; Raphael and Catherine.

He dragged a hand down his face. He had been lucky. Something could have happened last night, or maybe nothing would have happened, he wasn't sure because his memory was too foggy and his brain hurt too much to try to remember if Elizabeth's flirtatious behaviour had continued, or if she had levelled out.

And even taking Elizabeth out of the equation last night, he didn't want his first sexual encounter to have been during a drunken haze that he couldn't even recall in the morning. He wanted something more than that; deeper and more meaningful.

Pulling into the garage he eased himself from the truck and closed the door as gently as he could, both for the sake of his own head and mindful of the fact that his brothers were most likely still sleeping; since according to the clock in the truck, it was only a little after 6:30 in the morning.

Clutching at his head in pain and intending to go back to bed he walked two steps away from the truck before a gravelly voice laced with careful but seething anger inquired, "Doin' the walk of shame, Leo?"

Leonardo felt his spine stiffen and he pulled his hand away from his head. Eyes searching they finally settled upon Raphael -dressed in black pants, a black shirt and a dark brown hoodie- stepping out from the shadows.

Groaning inwardly he knew he wasn't up to the task of dealing with his hot-headed brother. His head pounded, his tongue felt like it had rolled in something fuzzy and foul tasting, and his stomach was forming a riot that would no doubt soon turn into a full scale rebellion.

He tried to walk past his brother without saying a word, but Raphael stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his way.

"Do you even know what the walk of shame is, Leo?" Raphael's harsh voice grated on his already frayed nerves and his sensitive ears.

"Raph, go away," he mumbled trying to step past his brother again, but Raphael placed a strong, restraining hand against Leonardo's plastron.

"It's when you go and have sex, then sneak out the next day in your messed up clothes and try to slip back home hopin' that no one sees you, or knows what you were doing." Raphael's voice was measured, mocking and dripping with deadly menace.

"I'm not doing the walk of shame," he ground out in irritation, hanging onto his temper by the very thinnest of shreds.

"Well if you weren't doin' the walk of shame, then you'd be still cuddlin' with Catherine and makin' her breakfast, not here, tryin' to sneak in."

Grinding his teeth together he tried to step away from his brother again, but Raphael didn't let him move, instead Raphael pushed him backwards, slamming him up against the side of the truck.

Leonardo saw stars explode behind his eyes as agony ripped through his head. He felt his world dip and slide and if it wasn't for Raphael's hand holding him upright, he swore he would have sunk to the ground, preferably into a boneless puddle that could no longer feel any more pain.

"Don't try to bullshit me, Leo," Raphael snarled angrily.

"Bullshit you? Bullshit _**YOU**__!?_" he snapped back furiously, finally losing his temper and regaining his sagging strength. Pushing his brother back he snarled, "I am sick and tired of your childish behaviour, and your uncontrollable temper!" he shouted. "**YOU** are the one who didn't give me Catherine's message. **YOU** are the one who tried to mess things up between us!" Glaring at his brother he continued. "If Catherine's feelings had been hurt it would have been _your_ fault! If she never wanted anything to do with me ever again, that would have been because of **YOU**! You purposefully set out to hurt her just because you don't like her and-"

"Looks like you managed to work things out just fine, didn't you?" Raphael sneered menacingly as he interrupted his words.

"That's not the point! Nothing happened!" His head throbbed as he yelled and he felt as if he was going to be sick. "They just-" he clutched at his head again, closing his eyes and counted to ten, waiting for his world to stop spinning or pulsing or whatever it was that it was doing.

"They?" Raphael latched onto the word menacingly and held it

Thought of the two sisters only reminded him about the fact that only fifteen minutes earlier he had been using one of Catherine's breasts as a pillow, while Elizabeth had used his thigh as her own pillow. Heat flooded through him at this thought and his lust, combined with his other emotions and physical ailments did him no favours because he was pretty sure he was about to lose what little stomach contents he presently had.

"Raph, just leave me alone! Nothing happened between me and the twins," he stated firmly, swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat and realizing too late that his words only highlighted the fact that he had been with both Catherine and Elizabeth last night and his protest only made him sound even guiltier.

"You..._and_ the twins," Raphael's voice razor sharp and biting.

Leonardo felt himself suddenly slammed against the side of the truck again, the hood of his jacket falling back from the impact. Leonardo closed his eyes both against the bright lights of the garage and in response to the knuckles that would soon be slammed into his cheek by his rightfully furious brother.

Guilt, hot and thick rose up within him. He knew he should have asked Elizabeth to stop flirting with him, but he hadn't. If he admitted it to himself although the younger sisters coy remarks embarrassed him, they stroked his male ego and they made him feel...wanted, like a man and not a freak of nature.

And he should have told Raphael about Elizabeth's flirting, but he didn't want Raphael to think that Elizabeth had any feelings for him, because he was sure she didn't and just flirted with him to tease him and make him uncomfortable.

He knew he deserved the physical retribution that Raphael was about to met out upon him because it was what he deserved after the lustful thoughts he had been having about Elizabeth.

Leonardo waited but the physical assault never came. Suddenly Raphael's arm went around his shoulders and pulled him away from the truck. His eyes snapped open in shock as he looked over at his brother who appeared fighting a smile.

Knees nearly giving way beneath him from sheer confused shock, Leonardo realized that he would never understand his red-masked brother. One moment he was spouting flames and about to commit bodily harm, the next he was perfectly fine. 'A volcano' Elizabeth had called his brother, and he could acknowledge that what she had said was very observant and true, though she could have added unpredictable, volatile, and capricious to the list of 'volcanic' epithets.

Pushing thoughts of Elizabeth from his mind he focused on his brother's words.

"You look like death," Raphael observed allowing a wide grin to split across his face.

Leonardo repressed a groan that was partially because of the twin nails that were trying to drive their way through his skull, and partially because he agreed with his brother's statement.

"How much did you drink?" Raphael asked as he ushered him towards the kitchen.

"I don't know," he mumbled, because he truthfully hadn't kept track of how many glasses of wine he had consumed.

"Come on. I'll make you the best hangover cure I know of," Raphael offered and Leonardo should have been suspicious about his brother's sudden change in mood, as well as his sudden willingness to be...nice to him. Unfortunately he felt too awful to care why Raphael was acting the way he was.

Leonardo again mumbled his thanks to his brother before asking with a large amount of suspicion., "What's the cure?"

"Bacon and eggs and a glass of orange juice," his brother stated easily.

Leonardo felt his stomach roll and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Come on, Leo. trust me, you need the grease, the food and the OJ, then back to bed to sleep it off," Raphael said as he pulled Leonardo forward, his legs moving again.

"Why are you being so nice?" Leonardo finally asked as they entered the kitchen and Raphael shoved him into a chair at the kitchen table.

He felt his body slump forward as he lay his head down upon the cool wooden surface of the table.

Ignoring the question Raphael asked instead, "You didn't even get to first base last night, did you?

"Huh?" he asked stupidly, lifting his head up and looking at his older brother with a frown on his face, trying to figure out what first base was. He encountered the black rectangle of what looked to be Michelangelo's cell phone, the blindingly bright flash suddenly going off, sending giant waves of red hot agony washing through him.

His eyes slammed shut and he buried his beak into his arm on the table with a loud groan of protest.

"To answer your earlier question, that's why. 'Cause seein' you like this is payment enough."

Leonardo only moaned in response and slumped down. After a few moments of listening to Raphael clanging around in the kitchen he finally answered, "No."

Leonardo heard all the noise in the kitchen cease.

"No, what?" Raphael asked carefully.

"First base is kissing, right?" he slowly asked, just trying to keep his mind from dwelling on the fact that he felt like hell.

"Yeah. First base is kissin'. Second's touchin' over the clothes, third is hard core makin' out without the clothes, home base is, well, I think even you can figure that one out," Leonardo caught the mocking lilt to his brother's voice.

"How about you?" Leonardo asked before his brain could actually filter or process what he was about to ask. He didn't think he wanted to know, yet at the same time, maybe he did. Leonardo knew he was navigating the tumultuous waters of a relationship without either rudder or compass and he supposed he might be able to use some advice if Raphael could offer up any.

"How about me, what?" Raphael's voice had suddenly become guarded, the sounds of his brother's breakfast preparations stopping for a moment before they began again. The smell of cooking food suddenly filled the room making Leonardo's stomach both roll in disgust and growl hungrily at the same time.

Lifting his head slightly he studied his brother. "Have you made it to first base?" he asked.

Raphael's cheeks turned dark and he turned his head away, no longer meeting Leonardo's eyes. "You mean with Elizabeth?"

Leonardo sighed. He offered up his embarrassing truth and here Raphael was acting cagey. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of him. "Unless you were kissing April before she started dating Casey then yes, I mean with Elizabeth,"

Raphael let out a snort and Leonardo took it to as a sign of either humour or derision.

"No I haven't kissed Elizabeth," Raphael ground out. "Thought about it," he admitted. "But it ain't ever gonna happen,"

Leonardo didn't even want to breathe. Raphael was actually talking to him, opening up and telling him what was going on. He wavered wondering if he should inquire as to why or to just keep his big beak shut and hope Raphael offered up the information on his own.

"Why?" he found himself quietly asking anyway. He winced, knowing that pushing Raphael was the worst thing he could have done. Waiting for Raphael to either snap at him or ignore the question he was surprised when Raphael actually answered him.

"Because when you ask a chick out and she flat out says 'no', even I can take the hint." Raphael's voice was slightly mocking, and thick with bitterness.

Leonardo had no idea what to say to that. It was no wonder his brother wouldn't meet his eyes. Raphael's cheeks had darkened partially with embarrassment and partially in anger over Elizabeth's rejection of him.

"Sorry, Raph," he quietly apologized; the guilt he had felt over his thoughts regarding Elizabeth lessening even as his heart ached for his brother.

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, just eat your bacon and eggs," Raphael grumbled as he set a plate of bacon and sunny-side up eggs down in front of him.

Leonardo gave a groan as the smell hit him; both good and bad at the same time.

"Come on, eat and you'll feel better, trust me." Raphael set down a glass of orange juice and two pieces of toast. "After you're done, straight to bed, got it?"

Leonardo nodded as Raphael gave a grunt and threw the pan in the sink. "You're not eating?" Leonardo asked as Raphael made to leave the room.

"Not hungry, and I'm beat. I'm goin' to bed. I waited up almost all damn night for you to get home," Raphael grumbled leaving Leonardo alone in the kitchen.

Leonardo let his brother go and stared at the bacon and eggs for a few moments before swallowing, picking up a piece of bacon and shoving it in his mouth.

He managed to get through a few more bites before Michelangelo sidled into the kitchen.

"Is he gone?" Michelangelo asked softly in a shaking voice.

"Who?" Leonardo asked with resignation, beginning to feel a little better as he ate his toast and drank down half a glass of orange juice.

"Raph," Michelangelo replied in a hushed whisper as he backed into the kitchen, his eyes firmly focused on the opening that led out into the hall. "He completely trashed his room last night. At least I'm pretty sure nothing survived. Not that I had a look, but-" Michelangelo's words were abruptly cut off when he turned and looked at Leonardo his mouth falling open in shock.

"Yes, I know I look awful. I drank too much last night and I'm hung-over, okay? Just try to keep your voice down," he pleaded.

Michelangelo slapped a hand over his mouth and Leonardo was positive that his baby brother was laughing at him.

"It's not funny, Mikey," he complained, not that there was much heat in his voice.

"Oh, it's funny," Michelangelo snickered and then covered his mouth to silence another chuckled but seemed to get a hold of himself as Leonardo glared at him. His baby brother coughed suspiciously a few times before stammering out a question. "S-so h-how was Cat?" Michelangelo asked still trying to contain his laughter as he took a seat at the table.

"She was fine. She wasn't angry."

"Are you sure?" Michelangelo asked, his voice an octave higher than it normally was.

Leonardo sighed, "Apparently Catherine and Raph had a chat which ended in Raph being rude and leaving sometime before I got there. I then ran into Elizabeth and she was worried that Catherine was going to be furious with me, but when we talked to Catherine she said that she wasn't surprised that Raph hadn't told me about dinner and that she wasn't angry or upset. Catherine insisted that I not lecture Raph and that I should just 'let it go' because her and Raph had already 'hashed things out'. But I began lecturing Raph when I got home anyway because he was in my face and furious with me, and I have no idea why. I thought things were going to get really bad, but then Raph seemed to...I don't know. He stopped lashing out and started acting...nice."

Michelangelo nodded his head trying to look serious, but the expression failed miserably.

Too tired to figure out why Michelangelo was acting the way he was, he instead offered up an explanation for Raphael's behaviour. "Raph asked Elizabeth out and I guess she turned him down."

Michelangelo's face fell . "Oh...I guess that would explain his room. Poor Raph," he murmured and Leonardo nodded in agreement. They were quiet for a few moments, each brooding over Raphael's situation before Michelangelo added, "It might also explain why he acted the way he did. Elizabeth turned him down and then Cat invites you out on a date. So he sabotaged your date because you know how jealous Raph can get."

Leonardo dragged a hand down his face and nodded in acknowledgement. His brother was extremely jealous -especially of him- and if Elizabeth had turned Raphael down then he would have been hurt which caused Raphael to lash out, and wrecking Leonardo's date was a good way to do just that.

Michelangelo continued with his thought. "And then Raph finds out that you were hanging out with both chicks last night and then you never came home. Even Raph can add two and two together to get four. Or in this case, one and two to get three." Michelangelo levelled a insinuating glance upon Leonardo.

Ignoring Michelangelo's insinuation he admitted tersely, "We played a board game...And I think it involved drinking."

Michelangelo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And did this drinking game involve the removal of bits and pieces of clothing?"

Leonardo felt himself blush and Michelangelo fist pumped the air. "I knew it!" he crowed.

"It wasn't like that!" he protested. "I left the lair in my training clothes, I reeked and I had a shower and I obviously didn't have any clothes to change into-"

"So you sat around naked playing a drinking board game with two women and _nothing_ happened?"

"No!" Leonardo protested. "And I was wearing my boxers." he said in a very quiet, very embarrassed voice, and then winced, because everything that was coming out of his mouth was implicating him in something he didn't do. Or at least he was pretty sure he didn't...but he still couldn't remember...

Leonardo let out a groan and Michelangelo chuckled. "So I take it you had a good time last night?"

"I have no idea," he admitted glumly. "I can't remember any of it."

Michelangelo gave a wide grin and chuckled. "Then you must have had fun."

"Nothing happened between me and the twins." he stated firmly, closing the conversation on that particular topic, and Michelangelo remained blissfully silent.

Leonardo ate a few more bites of food contemplating if the 'fun' he had apparently had was worth the agony he was suffering at the moment. "I don't understand how drinking is supposed to be 'enjoyable' or 'fun'," he grumbled into the silence.

"Well, I think the point is not to drink so much that you pass out."

Leonardo frowned, pushing away the remainder of his food. "How do you know I passed out?"

"Oh...just a hunch," Michelangelo replied while wearing smug grin that went from ear to ear.

Leonardo sighed and stood. He felt a little better, but his head was still pounding and he felt as if he needed to crawl into bed and not emerge for at least a week...maybe two.

"You'd uh…" Michelangelo gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like laugh. "You'd better go have a shower before you go to bed," he suggested.

"I told you, I already had a shower last night at Catherine's," Leonardo informed his brother as he began to make his way from the kitchen.

"And did this shower involve a certain woman or-"

He glared at his baby brother. "Mikey-"

"Okay, okay." Michelangelo held up his hands defensively.

Leonardo let out a huff of air and walked into the hallway, heading for the stairs to go to the upper level.

"But I guess since Elizabeth turned Raph down, if you _had_ been involved in a drunken threesome with both chicks, looks like you'd be in the clear."

Leonardo froze, grinding his teeth together in irritation. "Mikey, nothing happened! And what is it about those two women that everyone has to throw around suggestions about threesomes?!" he growled under his breath.

"Well...they're twins, they're hot and I'm a guy," Michelangelo answered Leonardo's rhetorical question.

"I'm going to bed, Mikey," Leonardo ground out in irritation.

"Shower. Trust me, Dude."

Gritting his teeth and knowing that he wouldn't get any peace if he didn't do as his brother suggested, he switched directions and headed for the main floor bathroom.

His baby brother followed and he wasn't quite sure why, but didn't say anything because truthfully, he felt too awful to care.

Leonardo shuffled into the bathroom intent on the shower and stopped as bright colours caught his attention in the mirror as he passed by it. Walking backwards a few steps, he turned and stared at himself in the mirror.

He was rendered completely speechless.

Shocked couldn't even seem to cover a tiny sliver of what he felt at that moment.

Michelangelo's side splitting, rolling peals of laughter didn't help matters either.

Leonardo turned his head glaring at his baby brother who was using the doorframe to keep himself from falling to the ground.

"Y-You...Do y-you know how hard it was keeping a straight face?" Michelangelo stammered and broke into another fit of laughter where he was left gasping for breath as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.

Wiping away his tears Michelangelo walked into the bathroom and stood beside Leonardo studying his reflection.

Leonardo turned his own attention back to the mirror and stared. They were silent for a few moments before Michelangelo spoke again.

"It's pretty impressive."

Still Leonardo offered up no words, mostly because he wasn't sure if he should be furious, annoyed, hurt, or amused. It was possible he felt all four at the same time.

"I mean, they did your entire head."

Leonardo twisted his head to the side to get a better look and saw that Michelangelo was correct.

"It could be worse," Michelangelo offered up as Leonardo continued his silent observation of his face.

"How?" he finally asked.

"Well...they could have made you look like a chick, or they could have wrote something rude across your forehead..." Michelangelo paused in thought for a moment before coming up with another point. "Or I saw this one dude on youtube whose friend drew a penis-"

"Okay!" Leonardo interrupted Michelangelo's thought and closed his eyes in response to the fact that snapping at his brother had the adverse effect of shooting tiny shards of agony spiking through his brain. "I get your point," he ground out and opened his eyes. "I'm going to kill her," he finally announced, settling on anger as his emotion of choice; mostly because he was already in a foul mood, and he was now in an even worse one.

Michelangelo snorted and shook his head. "Dude, you passed out, you were fair game. And like I said, they did a pretty good job."

"Elizabeth apparently wanted to humiliate me."

"For one, kinda the point, for two, you think Elizabeth did this?" Michelangelo asked incredulously.

"You don't?" Leonardo asked in surprise.

"Oh, Elizabeth probably helped, but this screams Catherine. I would bet you money," Michelangelo stated emphatically.

"What makes you so sure?" Leonardo asked suspiciously, trying to figure out how this prank couldn't have been Elizabeth.

"Because if it was Elizabeth, she'd have made it look like you were sucking on a giant-"

"Okay!" Leonardo snapped angrily.

Michelangelo grinned. "And this," he gestured to Leonardo's face, "this is...well... it's art."

* * *

**Thoughts? opinions? **

**And I'm sorry Nerdfighter for no threesome like you wanted:( But hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway:)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hello all! Special treat, double update this week! Woot, Woot!**

**Thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers, Sleepingseeker, The Nerdfighter, Ougi-san, Kimmie98 and rinpup14 for your amazing reviews!**

**Alright, I hope you all enjoy this chapter XD**

* * *

Chapter 18

**Elizabeth** rolled over and poked her sister in the thigh.

Catherine opened her eyes and lifted her head, placing her hand on the side of her head and looking at her inquiringly.

"I guess you were awake, huh?" she asked.

"Of course," Catherine answered back. "Like I could have slept through Leonardo attempting to extricate himself from the sandwich we made of him."

Elizabeth let out a bark of laughter. "Chicken shit," she taunted with a smile.

Catherine's eyes widened in shock and she sat up, disturbing Elizabeth from where she had been lying on her sister's thighs.

"I'm not a chicken," she protested as she turned on a lamp, lighting the room with a soft yellow glow.

"So why didn't you let Leo know that you were awake?" she asked sitting up and studying her sister's face.

Her sister gave a half smile. "He was trying so hard to sneak out, I didn't want to ruin the impression that he succeeded."

Elizabeth snorted and shook her head. "Uh-huh," she intoned sarcastically.

"Coming from the chick who didn't indicate she was awake either," Catherine shot back.

"Hey, he moved and my face basically slid right into his crotch. Of _course_ I wasn't going to let him know that I was awake!"

Catherine lifted a dark eyebrow speculatively and Elizabeth couldn't help the blush that spread unwillingly across her face.

Her sister smiled."You mean you actually showed a modicum of restraint in your quest to embarrass Leonardo, congratulations," her sister mused sarcastically.

"What was I supposed to do? Open my eyes and look up at him and say, 'Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?' Flirting is one thing, accidentally face planting into his junk -his very erect and-" her words were cut off by a pillow that flew at her head, which connected, knocking her scoodie the rest of the way off of her head. She grinned at her sister who gave her a warning glare. "Fine. It was definitely bigger than a banan-"

_Pomff._

Another pillow hit her in the head. "Okay, okay." She put her hands up in surrender. "My point is that he's the guy _you_ are interested in. And besides," she offered with a quirk of her lips and a shrug, "with what you did to his face last night, I wouldn't be able to see him blushing anyway."

Her sister gave a snort and shook her head. "Fine," Catherine said after a moment's pause. "I will admit that in the cold, harsh, _sober_ light of day...that maybe I feel a smidge guilty and regretful about what I did to him," her sister acknowledged while holding her index finger and thumb fractionally apart.

Elizabeth let out a chuckle of laughter. "Whatever, it was awesome. And you warned him. I mean, I get being still angry with Raph drinking your frustrations away and wanting to win the game, but... You actually told Leo that if he didn't stop drinking so much so fast you were going to draw on his face if he passed out; and he did. So he can't complain."

Catherine raised her eyebrow again at her words.

"Fine, he can complain, but you know what? It was beautiful, and I think Leo will appreciate it..." She paused. "Eventually...Maybe..." and then she broke into huge peals of laughter."Okay probably never, but he needed to be pranked soooo badly. He needs to be dragged kicking and screaming out of his comfort zone, and he needs to not take himself so seriously. I mean, his brothers have stuck him up on this huge pedestal and he is basically trapped there. He always needs to be perfect for himself and his family and he needs to get over it."

Catherine grew serious and nodded her agreement. "True," she offered slowly. "Even Raphael seems to have placed Leonardo up there -whether he knows it or not- and Raphael wants to be on that pedestal instead of his brother. But what Raphael doesn't understand is how lonely it is up there, or how long and hard that inevitable fall is. No one can ever continually live up to everyone's expectations; and for Leonardo, his own expectations of himself."

Elizabeth contemplated her sister's words. Catherine was right of course; about both Leonardo and Raphael. Leonardo was harder on himself than his family was, and one day Leonardo was not going to be able to live up to either his own expectations of himself or his family's and he was going to fall...hard.

Leonardo had to get over himself and admit that he was only human...okay, only a mutant turtle...same thing. He wasn't perfect because no one was or could ever be.

She also agreed that Raphael was jealous of Leonardo, because for some reason Raphael viewed Leonardo as 'perfect'. But Raphael's biggest problem was the fact that he was his own worst enemy. Ninety-eight percent of Raphael's problems were created by himself.

Elizabeth could admit that she shared some personality traits with Raphael where she caused most of her own problems, but hers were usually of the accidental variety. Raphael on the other hand charged head first into any and all situations using both his biting sarcasm and his fists and destroyed everything in his path, blew it up, and then nuked it for good measure. He didn't just burn bridges he incinerated them.

Thoughts of Raphael washed a wave of irritated anger through her.

She was glad her sister hadn't been hurt by Raphael's machinations and seemed to have expected him to act the way he had, but still, the fact that he had messed with her sister left her furious.

Elizabeth found that she _liked_ Leonardo. Now that she knew he wasn't as boring as she had thought he was, she understood what her sister saw in him and approved. The two of them were good together and Raphael -in all of his infinite selfishness- was going to wreck everything.

"El, I need to tell you something and I need some advice," Catherine began hesitantly.

"Don't call Leo yet, just let him sleep it off first," she offered.

Catherine gave her an irritated glance that contained not an ounce of heat and rolled her eyes, a half smile playing on her lips. "I know _that._"

"Careful, Cat, asking my advice twice in a row, this is becoming a habit," she teased.

"You know what, you're right, never mind. After the last time I asked you for advice and the disastrous results that followed, I think I'm good."

"Awwwhhh come on, and p.s. you agreed to the switch so that is all on you," she pointed out.

Catherine sighed. "True," she agreed before growing oddly serious. Elizabeth frowned and straightened her spine in response to her sister's suddenly somber mood.

"It's about Raphael," Catherine began slowly, as if she was picking her words with care.

"I knew that jerk said or did something to you worse than just telling you that he didn't like you."

Catherine blinked at her, shocked at the vehemence of her words and Elizabeth found herself surprised as well. She knew she was upset with Raphael, but still, the anger in her voice surprised her.

"Uh...no, he didn't actually. He wasn't too bad considering, and he did have a right to be angry with me," Catherine pointed out gently.

"Fine, whatever," Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. "So what about Raph?"

"Well...you know how I told you that he asked you out when he thought I was you and I told him that you weren't interested in a relationship right now?" she queried.

"Yeah," she answered with a quick nod of her head. Catherine had only told Raphael exactly what she herself had told her sister, so she wasn't upset about that.

"Well... I think Raphael was attempting to change your mind," Catherine informed her which just confused the hell out of her because she hadn't even talked to Raphael since the night she had impersonated her sister extremely badly and gone on her not-date with Leonardo.

"How? I haven't even talked to him," she asked putting her thoughts into words.

"He thought I was you when I went to talk to Leonardo at the lair yesterday after the photo shoot."

Elizabeth found herself frowning. "What do you mean he thought you were me? What did he do?"

Catherine bit her lip before she continued. "... He kissed me."

Elizabeth found her mouth falling open in shock.

"I'm sorry," Catherine apologized sincerely. "I didn't know it was Raphael, I thought Leonardo had grabbed me and-"

Elizabeth cut her off by waving her hands. "Hold up and rewind," she began. "How did he not know it was you, and how did you not know it was him?" she asked, her voice incredulous and rising an octave in pitch.

"I don't know. Maybe he assumed I was you because I was riding your bike and he just kinda pounced; grabbing me as I walked by, and it was dark-"

"Okay, how didn't you know it was Raph?" she asked cutting her sister off again.

"He was wearing one of Leonardo's shirts and I didn't really have time to notice anything else before he slammed me against the wall and kissed me."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment -obviously too quiet for too long- because her sister began talking again, her words rambling, sincere, and full of guilt.

"I'm sorry, El. I really didn't know it was him and he was not impressed when he found out it was me and I am so, so sorry. I hope you aren't mad at me and-"

"Okay enough," she interrupted her sister's words. "So you thought Leo, like LEO, would just randomly kiss you in a dark corner?"

"Oh, come on! That's what Raphael said!" her sister complained as she fell back on the couch and put a pillow over her burning cheeks.

"Well for once, Raph is right," she pointed out dryly as her sister moved the pillow and glared at her. "Leo is too much of a gentleman. Pretty sure you're going to have to kiss him...If you guys ever manage to go out on a date that is."

Catherine sighed and sat up, the pillow falling into her lap. "So you're not mad?" she asked hesitantly.

Elizabeth frowned. "Why would I be mad?" she asked in confusion.

"Because Raphael kissed me."

"So?" Elizabeth answered with a nonchalant shrug. "It's not like I'm dating him. He can kiss whoever he wants."

Catherine frowned in puzzlement. "But...I thought you liked him," Catherine asked uncertainly. "I thought that given enough time maybe you two would-"

"Nope." Elizabeth shook her head back and forth. "Me and Raph are never going to happen," she said and then continued, cutting off whatever her sister had been about to say. "Don't get me wrong, I like Raph and I like hanging around with him, but only as a friend." She blew out a breath as she contemplated her feelings for the red masked brother which seemed to have undergone a serious about-face over the past 48 hours; possibly in response to both her not-date with Leonardo and Raphael's spiteful, vindictive actions towards her sister and Leonardo. "He's difficult, immature, arrogant and selfish. I just can't deal with going out with a guy like that."

"That pretty much sounded like EVERY guy you have ever dated," her sister pointed out bluntly.

She contemplated her sister's words for a moment and nodded her head in acknowledgement of the truth of these words. "And they all ended horribly. They never went anywhere, were never serious, and they always imploded. Truthfully I'm tired of it. I'm tired of dating guys-"

"Who are asses?" her sister interjected sweetly.

Elizabeth found herself laughing. "Touché," she acknowledged.

"So you're looking for something serious now?" her sister questioned carefully.

Elizabeth let out a puff of air and leaned back against the couch cushions. "No, I don't think so," she admitted softly because she could admit to herself that being in love scared her to death. It was frightening to be that vulnerable and unlike her sister she didn't have the defenses required to protect her heart from being crushed. "But I want..." the image of Leonardo's face pressed in close to hers as he glared down at her angrily suddenly flashed in her head. "If I _was_ looking, I'd want someone who's mature," the remembrance of the awareness and heat pulsing between her and Leonardo during their not-date the other night burned through her mind, "and serious." The feel of his textured, but surprisingly pleasant arm pressed against her own which sent sparks of awareness through her as she explained the rules of the drinking board game she laid out on the coffee table; determination lighting his serious dark eyes... "But sweet, fun, smart, confident, and interesting."

Realizing that she was reflecting upon and imagining Leonardo as she was listing the qualities of the next guy she wanted to date, she shook her head back and forth, trying to dislodge his image. There were other men in the world besides Leonardo who were mature, serious, strong, interesting and burned with the same amount of pent up passion that was just waiting to be released-

"So someone the complete opposite of you," her sister interrupted her thoughts.

Elizabeth frowned. "Well...not completely the opposite, I mean...we have to have things in common. But someone who isn't a dried up old stick, and is passionate, but who can handle-"

"Your impetuousness, your propensity for getting yourself into trouble, and your fickle nature?" her sister asked sweetly.

It was Elizabeth's turn to glare. She wanted to refute every one of her sister's observations, but she couldn't. "I'm not fickle." Except that one.

"You can be," her sister said with a smirk. "You can also be difficult, moody and your temper is...well...not as bad as Raphael's..." her sister's voice trailed off and she laughed.

Elizabeth found herself smiling. "Well at least I show my emotions, and act like I have a heart, unlike _someone_ I know who just bottles everything inside and who is so logical that their heart is frozen in a giant block of ice."

Catherine laughed again and smiled a wide grin. "This is me showing emotion, see." She pointed to her smile.

"Not refuting the block of ice comment?" she asked her sister teasingly.

"Nope," Catherine answered with another wide smile which caused Elizabeth to laugh.

"Careful 'Big sis', one day your Prince Charming is going to come along and melt that block of ice protecting your heart and then you are going to be in trouble."

"So says the serial dater," her sister was quick to reply.

"At least I've been in love."

"I've been in love," her sister protested.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Her sister had been in long term relationships before, and had loved, but she had never allowed herself to really open up and be _in _love with them. Catherine teased Elizabeth about being scared of love, but Catherine was just as bad.

"Sure. You've loved." Elizabeth put her thoughts into words. "But you've never actually been _in_ it. Everyone you have ever dated has always been relegated to the fringes of your heart. No one has even managed to melt it even a little bit."

"That isn't true," her sister protested again.

"Kitty, in your last relationship the dude went away for like a over month and you didn't even miss him while he was gone."

"So?"

"So, that's not normal. You are supposed to miss people when they're gone!" she told her sister insistently.

"Trevor had to go home to his family over the summer break," Catherine said with a shrug as if that explained everything; which to her sister it did. "And I miss you," Catherine added as proof that she had the ability to miss someone.

"I don't count," Elizabeth ground out.

Her sister sighed. "I just don't understand why anyone would sit around pining over someone when they are gone. They are gone for a reason and will come back when they come back. Moping about it isn't going to make them come back any sooner. It just doesn't make any sense."

Elizabeth dragged her hand down her face in frustration. "It isn't supposed to make _sense,_ it just is. Being in love means wanting to be with that person all the time. It means missing them, it means feeling like your world will end if they are no longer a part of it. Everyone you have ever dated has been so...comfortable."

"What's wrong with comfortable?" her sister asked with a frown.

"Comfortable isn't passionate. Comfortable is just going with the flow and not making any waves. Comfortable is boring. You need someone who will actually make you...make you _burn_," Elizabeth insisted.

"Sounds unpleasant," Catherine managed to say with a completely straight face and Elizabeth used one of the pillows that had been thrown at her to wack her sister across the face.

Catherine laughed and blocked her blow and they grinned at each other.

"You're impossible," Elizabeth told her sister with a smile.

"So are you," Catherine replied back, her own smile still stretched across her face.

They both knew that neither one of them was perfect -they each had their personality quirks and defects- but that was okay, they loved each other because of them.

"And what about _your_ Prince Charming?" her sister asked.

"At this point I would settle for just charming...or employed...or has his own ride," she answered ruefully to which her sister chuckled in response.

Elizabeth could only hope that Leonardo would be able to melt the icy protection around her sister's heart. Catherine needed to fall _in_ love, she deserved it, and Leonardo seemed to check a lot of her sister's boxes when it came to the qualities she looked for in a guy. And the two seemed to be well on their way to _something_.

Leonardo also had the benefit of a passionate nature that he kept very tightly in check. In fact, he was so repressed that he was likely to explode sooner than later and Elizabeth could admit to being a little jealous of the fact that her sister was going to be the recipient of that spectacular, primal verve that he would no doubt be unable to help unleashing upon her sister.

In fact this thought so bothered her that she found herself almost sighing in a forlorn, melancholy sort of way. The haunting memory of a set of dark brown eyes burning at her with barely controlled bestial need and desire flashing through her mind.

Closing her eyes momentarily against the image she contemplated her feelings. Opening her eyes she stared at her hands which lay in her lap. Seeing her sister and Leonardo engaged in that courtship ritual of nerves and uncertainty, butterflies and quickened heartbeats made her want what her sister was on her way to having. If she was truthful with herself, she had suddenly realized that she was lonely and wanted something more than the monotony of the serial dating she seemed to have fallen into over the past several years. And she tried not to examine too closely the reason for her sudden change of heart and instead managed to catch her sister's voice suddenly intruding into her thoughts.

"So do you think I should tell him?"

Elizabeth found her head snapping up, looking at her sister and blinking in confusion. "What?"

"I said...that I had told Raphael that we should just pretend the whole kissing thing never happened, but I've been trying to figure out if I should tell Leonardo about accidentally kissing Raphael anyway," Catherine explained patiently.

"Good, God No!" she gasped in shock.

Her sister sat up straighter, apparently surprised by the vehemence of her words.

"But-"

"No," she replied firmly. "Do NOT go telling Leo that Raph kissed you."

"But-"

"No," she reiterated. "The last thing you want is getting between those two. They are already like oil and water as it is and you don't need to add a spark to that powder keg."

"I don't think-"

"Listen, when it comes to this sort of thing, logic goes out the window. You don't want Leo going after Raph because he kissed you. Even if it was accidental you two still kissed, and just because it was accidental didn't mean it didn't happen. Besides, you and Leo aren't even dating yet so _technically_ you can kiss anyone you want. And unless you are planning on giving Leo a list of EVERYONE who you have ever kissed, he is on a need to know basis and in this case, he **doesn't need** to know," she advised emphatically.

Leonardo finding out that his brother had made out with Catherine would not go over well; especially considering the general snail-like pace of Leonardo and Catherine's relationship. They both liked each other -that was obvious- but neither of them was overtly flirting with the other. There were smiles and there was interest, but it was all so gentle, soft and almost...shy; tentative. Which probably had to do with the fact that Leonardo was just finally coming around to accepting the _idea _of dating her sister.

She ignored the unexpected pang of jealousy that shot through her at this thought. She gave herself a mental shake and acknowledged that her feelings for Leonardo may not be as innocent as she had first suspected. Of course this didn't mean anything. Just because she found the idea of Leonardo suddenly appealing didn't mean she actually _wanted_ to date him. He was more of a template, a sample of what she was now searching for, and that was all.

"I just think that if I-"

"No."

"Lizzy-"

"Kitty, trust me. Men get territorial and possessive. It doesn't matter that you and Raph can't stand each other and that Raph has no interest in you, Leo will see Raph as a threat anyway and you will end up making this tiny thing into a BIG thing."

"Or this _tiny_ thing is going to become a _BIG_ thing if I don't tell him," her sister pointed out insistently.

Elizabeth sighed. "Fine. If you can manage to slip Raph kissing you into a conversation where it isn't going to sound like the worst thing ever, then go for it."

"But it was only a kiss," her sister offered up quietly.

Elizabeth studied her sister whose cheeks had suddenly become overly pink. She narrowed her eyes in speculation. Her sister wouldn't meet her searching gaze and was instead studying the pillow in her lap as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

"If I know Raph, then that guy doesn't do anything by halves. He didn't give you no quick peck on the cheek or lips. I would bet money that he went in for the full meal deal."

Catherine didn't deny her observation but she didn't confirm them either. Luckily her sister's face flamed red and Elizabeth grinned at having confirmed her suspicions.

"So how much pawing was there and how much tongue?" she asked, enjoying her sister's embarrassment profusely; as there were so few times when her sister actually gave any sort of emotional reaction to anything.

Finally her sister answered. "There was no 'pawing'," she defended firmly.

"So there was obviously tongue," Elizabeth confirmed more to herself than to her sister before a thought struck her. "How did that even work?" she wondered. "I would think that his tongue and mouth would be too big to French kiss..." She grinned. "Unless it was your tongue in _his _mouth." she purred at her sister who was now tomato red. "So _you_ were Frenching Raph?!"

"Lizzy," her sister pleaded as if Elizabeth were likely to show her mercy, which of course she wasn't.

"Oh this is too good," Elizabeth chuckled.

"Lizzy, please it wasn't that...okay, it wasn't a peck, but-"

"Do you really think Leo isn't going to freak when he finds out that you were playing tonsil hockey with Raph? " she interrupted. "And I know you which means that things must have been getting all hot and heavy between you two before you decided to put your tongue down his throat."

Her sister deflated and fell against the couch with a groan, putting the pillow over her face again in embarrassed, frustrated resignation.

"I am so screwed." Catherine said, voice muffled from the pillow.

"And not even in the good way."

Catherine threw the pillow at her head and Elizabeth managed to duck the flying projectile.

She grinned. She had told her sister the truth, she was more amused by the fact that Catherine had kissed Raphael than angry; mostly because she wished she had been a fly on that wall when both Catherine and Raphael discovered they had been kissing each other, and she took perverse pleasure in imagining the scene in her head. And this feeling only reaffirmed her own feelings for Raphael.

She didn't feel even a shred of jealousy that her sister had kissed him. This meant that she had to actually tell Raphael how she felt, and that was a conversation she wasn't looking forward to. She had the feeling that Raphael was the type of guy who didn't take 'no' for an answer; as evidenced by the fact that he had decided to try to convince her to go out with him by slamming her against a wall and kissing her. Of course it was her sister and not her who had been subjected to that plan, and she had to admit that the scenario held a large amount of appeal to her and it may have worked in another time and another place, but not now. She wanted something different, someone different and squashing down the image of Leonardo that rose in her mind at that thought she acknowledged instead that she only had feelings of friendship for Raphael -and barely that at the moment because she was pissed off at him for what he had tried to pull with her sister.

Looking at her sister she realized that Catherine had become thoughtful and was now giving her a searching look, as if she was picking apart and studying Elizabeth's errant and confusing thoughts. Finding this both alarming and embarrassing she gave her sister a sly smile and to distract her asked, "Sooo..."she purred throatily. "Just what _was _it like kissing a mutant turtle?"

* * *

**Hehe. Okay all thoughts opinions? Everyone still wondering what the twins did to Leo? Well that you will find out in the next chapter ;)**

******Also an imaginary cookie to anyone who can figure out what game Leo and the twins were playing. (hints, it's a board game, it involves drinking, you win the game by collecting pink elephant cards)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Alrighty peeps, hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving weekend! And Columbus day long weekend for my American readers:)**

**So the game Leo and the twins played was called 'Pass Out' an oldie but a goody;) (I found it in my parent's basement years ago) Anyway imaginary cookies to CIDHH6 for correctly guessing the game, amazing job!**

**A big thank you as well to my reviewers Diana Fay, I love kittens too, TurtleGarg81, The Nerdfighter, Lauraliath, Ougi-san, CIDHH6, rinpup14, Kimmie98 and SleepingSeeker. Thank you guys so much for all of your support!:)**

**oh, and I have text messages in this chapter, I hope the way I wrote them is easy to distinguish and not confusing :) **

**oh and Raph and potty mouth... you know the drill**

**and now please enjoy:D**

* * *

Chapter 19

**Raphael** made it to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, his earlier mirth having dissipated as he had cooked his older brother breakfast. He flopped down onto what was left of his mattress and stared at the ceiling, shifting slightly as a spring dug into his side.

When he had realized that Leonardo had spent the night at Catherine's his fury had been incendiary. He knew Leonardo and his sense of honour and wouldn't have believed his brother to be so quick to have sex with Catherine, and Raphael believed Catherine herself to be too icy to jump into bed with his brother, and yet, because Leonardo hadn't come home, he had no choice but to assume that this is exactly what had happened.

And his first thought had been to go over to Catherine's and drag his brother from his nice cozy position in Catherine's bed. He had then realized that not only was this thought _**insane,**_ but he couldn't quite understand _why_ he would even want to do such a thing. And so he had made his way back to his room, changing into some dry clothing and lying upon his mangled mattress brooding darkly.

He was furious, but he wasn't quite sure why. Obviously it had to do with Catherine, but he couldn't understand _why _the thought of his brother with Catherine bothered him so much; and could only chalk it up the jealousy. He was jealous that his older brother had a chance at something he would never have, and that was it. He wasn't jealous because Leonardo was _with_ Catherine...

Not at all.

His temper had reduced itself to a slow boil and continued to remain constant until he heard the truck pull into the garage, his temper flaring to life again. He wasn't able to control himself, tearing a strip off his brother, who had retaliated in turn by attempting to lecture him. Raphael had shot back at Leonardo by telling his brother that his actions hadn't messed anything up, and insinuated that Leonardo had done rather well for himself last night. And then his brother had said 'they-'and it felt as if he had just received a punch to the gut that left him reeling; his lungs unable to drag in a much needed breath because his brother had been with both women last night.

His brother had then protested that he hadn't done anything with 'the twins' as if the two were a matching set that automatically went together; which made him furious. He had joked and teased about a threesome with the two women, but now when he thought about it, it infuriated him because Catherine and her sister deserved more than to be viewed as a couple of play things.

Furiously he had slammed his brother against the door of the truck and at that moment Leonardo's hood had fallen back revealing the exact kind of night his brother had actually had.

It had taken every tiny shred of willpower he possessed not to burst out laughing right there and then; but it was too sweet a moment to spoil. No. He had wanted to savour each delicious second of his brother's obliviousness. Placing his arm around his brother's shoulders he completely ignored the sense of complete and utter relief that had flowed through him when he realized that his brother had been telling the truth when he had said that nothing had happened between himself and Catherine.

Raphael even managed to feel a tiny bit sorry for his brother; having himself suffered many a brutal hangover before he learned his limit. Feeling mollified he took a picture of his ailing brother and because he was in a suddenly charitable mood, cooked him breakfast to make him feel better.

But then he hadn't been able to resist asking his brother if he had made it to first base with Catherine yet. He had no idea what had possessed him to ask, but he had and after clearing up what each 'base' actually stood for, he had confirmed his earlier observation that his brother hadn't kissed Catherine; which made him feel both relieved and oddly guilty at the same time.

His brother had then asked him if he had made it to first base and he hadn't been able to stop the rush of blood that had stained his cheeks dark with both guilty embarrassment and lust; because thinking out the kiss he had shared with Catherine lit his senses and his body reacted with the burning desire to repeat the experience. Quickly avoiding his brother's searching gaze he asked if Leonardo meant with Elizabeth.

He could have admitted right there and then that he had accidently kissed Catherine, but for some reason he hadn't been able to because he couldn't seem to figure out a way to tell his brother. As angry as he had been with Leonardo last night and this morning (for reasons he himself still didn't quite understand) he didn't want throw it in his brother's face and come off as cruel and malicious; which considering his personality and his propensity to do exactly this -especially to Leonardo- really said something about his state of mind at the moment.

_The kiss wasn't even a big deal,_ he argued with himself. He hadn't even groped her. It had been practically G-rated. And it was only a kiss, he shouldn't feel guilty over a _kiss_. It wasn't even as if he _wanted_ to kiss Catherine.

And so he had told his brother that he hadn't kissed Elizabeth (which was true), and that he had thought about it (also true), but that it was never going to happen, (the third truth) and he was on a roll because now came the lie or -at least the partial lie- which was that Elizabeth had turned him down after he asked her out on a date. The truth was he had _technically_ asked Catherine -who he had thought was Elizabeth- out on a date. This fact made his brain hurt, but according to Catherine if he had asked Elizabeth out, she would have turned him down anyway. So he supposed it didn't matter, it was a moot point. Elizabeth hadn't exactly said 'no', but as far as he was concerned it was good enough. And besides, if he told his brother that Elizabeth had shot him down, then his big brother wouldn't start to wonder and pry into why all of a sudden after four months of pursuing Elizabeth he had abruptly decided to stop.

Feeling suddenly depressed he had waved away his brother's concern and gave Leonardo his food, told him to get some sleep, and left the kitchen before his sudden depression turned to bitter, jealous anger, and he said something stupid like 'I made it to first base with your girl' or 'I got your girlfriend all hot and bothered' or something even worse.

Dragging a hand down his face he forcefully pulled his mind away from all thoughts of Catherine and Elizabeth. He sighed and pulled out Michelangelo's phone. He scrolled to the picture of Leonardo and smiled.

He supposed it could have been much worse, but at the same time it was deviously delightful and incredibly daring; and he had to give points for originality. After all, there was always the overdone but still enjoyable gag of making a dude who is passed out -and it was obvious Leonardo had been passed out- look like a chick. But the women -or he would assume Elizabeth because he believed she would be the only one brave enough and devious enough to prank his oldest brother in that way- had stepped it up a notch. She had dug into her makeup bag, but instead of doing Leonardo's face up to look like a girl with blush and eyeliner, she had instead _painted _Leonardo's entire head. Beginning with a base of white she had created a skull, complete with grinning teeth and darkened eye sockets. When he had told his brother he looked like Death, he wasn't kidding. Of course she hadn't stopped there and had added intricate designs, swirls, flowers, ribbons and butterflies. He recognized 'the Day of the Dead' styled make-up, and considering how Leonardo had felt this morning, it seemed that the make-up was not only apt, but symbolic as well.

The fun had not stopped with the makeup as Elizabeth had woven brightly coloured ribbons of pink, purple, aqua and yellow through the blue tails of Leonardo's mask. The icing on the cake -the cherry on the sundae- were the brightly coloured artificial flowers that decorated Leonardo's head. His brother no longer wore his mask across his eyes, but was instead wearing it across his forehead like a flower laden daisy crown complete with bright coloured ribbons.

He chuckled to himself as he stared at his brother's face in the picture. He didn't think Leonardo would see the humour in it, but he sure as hell did. 'Day of the Dead' indeed. His brother not only looked like death, but felt like death too.

It was fucking brilliant.

So brilliant in fact that for some reason he had a sneaking suspicion that it was Catherine and not Elizabeth who had orchestrated the whole thing. And the more he thought about it the more he was pretty positive that it had been Catherine. Knowing Elizabeth's personality like he did, he knew she would have acted as he would have. And faced with his older brother passed out in front of him, he would have drawn a giant dick on his brother's face, maybe two for good measure, and believed that Elizabeth would have done the same.

Hoping that he was giving too much credit to Catherine -who he believed lacked both the guts and the mischievous nature to have pranked Leonardo- he decided to text Elizabeth and tell her how much he appreciated her joke. He wrote;

**'Love Leo's new death look. Flowers and ribbons were a nice touch.**'

He wasn't expecting a reply, figuring Elizabeth would be sleeping off her own hangover, but the reply was almost instant, his phone vibrating as a message came through.

**'Hehe, I thought so;) How does he feel?**

**'Pretty hungover' **He texted back.

**'Awwhh:( I hope he feels better soon. Tell him he needs some grease, lots of fluids and to get some sleep.'**

Raphael contemplated the text for a minute.

**'Whose idea was it?'** he texted back hoping that Elizabeth would say it was hers.

**'LOL Cat's. I don't have a death wish;)'** Was the quick reply.

The phone vibrated again letting him know there was another text, but this one was from Catherine.

He felt his heart speed up uncomfortably. He opened the text and read it.

**'How angry was Leonardo?'**

Raphael looked at the text. He could tell her his brother was furious and never wanted to see her again, but that was just petty and mean, even for him. He replied.

**'He hasn't noticed yet'**

His phone buzzed again and he read the text.

**'Wow, really? El says he's not feeling too good.'**

**'Yup and nope he isn't but he'll live. I cooked him breakfast'**

Leonardo was going to be less than impressed when he looked in a mirror. He wondered how his big brother would take the news that Catherine had orchestrated the whole thing. But Raphael knew that if he told Leonardo that it was Catherine's handiwork adorning his face, that his brother wouldn't believe him.

**'That was sweet of you:)' **she texted him and he frowned at the word 'sweet'. He had been called many things before, but never 'sweet'. He didn't quite know how to take that text but another text came through and his name jumped out at him.

**'How's Raphael?'**

_What does she mean how am I?_ He wondered in confusion. He was texting her _and _being nice. That said something. And then he remembered that he had Michelangelo's phone, which meant both Catherine and Elizabeth believed they were texting Michelangelo, not himself.

She had called Michelangelo 'sweet', not him, and for some reason that stung, because she would never think of him as 'sweet', she would only ever think of him as an 'ass'.

He slowly sat up and frowned in irritation. Did he answer as himself or did he answer as Michelangelo? He stared at the phone in his hand for what felt like an eternity.

_What the hell is wrong with you? _his inner voice scolded. Why would he answer as Michelangelo? What would he gain by pretending to be his baby brother?

_A conversation not filled with Catherine's obvious dislike of you._ The tauntingly soft voice of temptation answered.

Shaking himself out of his tumultuous inner thoughts he licked his lips.

**'I'm fine' **He replied and waited anxiously.

**'Raph?'**

**'Yup. Broke my phone stole Mikey's.'**

**'You cooked Leonardo breakfast?'**

**'Yeah.'**

**'Oh'**

And that was it. He waited for her to reply more than just 'oh' but there was nothing. No praise, no 'good job', no nothing. He fought down the disappointment that rose within him, but he didn't understand _why _he was so upset that he didn't have her approval, or seem to want to talk with him anymore.

He had never texted her before -he didn't even have her number in his contact list on his phone- and here he was sulking on his mattress because she didn't want to talk to him.

And that was fine because he didn't want to talk to her either.

Suddenly furious he tried to resist the urge to throw his baby brother's phone across the room and destroy it, but was fast losing this struggle. Hefting it up he squeezed the plastic until it began to creak. Pulling his arm back he got ready to toss it against the far wall...

And then the damn thing rang in his hand.

His reaction was automatic; not even looking at who was calling.

"What?" he snarled answering the phone.

"I thought you said you were fine?" a woman's voice observed teasingly into his ear and Raphael's heart sped up, his mouth went dry, and his palms began to sweat uncontrollably.

Michelangelo was right, they did sound different, because he _knew_ that the woman on the other end of the line was Catherine, and not Elizabeth.

Pulling the phone away from his ear and looking at it he saw that Catherine's picture was lit up on the phone. Placing the phone back up to his ear he swallowed before he spoke.

"I _am_ fine," he retorted, his voice shaking slightly as he tried to get control of himself.

"So you said, but that sounds like a 'woman's fine' to me."

"A 'woman's fine'? What the hell is a 'woman's fine'?" he asked in confusion, anger beginning to build within him as he became frustrated with himself for his reaction to Catherine's sudden phone call.

"You know, the stereotypical 'woman's fine' when a woman tells a guy that everything is fine and the guy accepts that she is fine because she said it was, but in reality everything is _not_ fine."

"I don't get it," he ground out in irritation.

"I know. It would be so much _easier _if the woman just told the guy _why_ she was upset, even if the reason was stupid or doesn't make any sense because it is important to her and made her feel the way she did," she agreed easily. "So...are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked sweetly.

"I said I'm _fine_," he bit out angrily.

Catherine sighed dramatically. "Raphael,"

"Stop it!" he snapped angrily. "I've told you a thousand times to stop calling me Raphael!" he snarled harshly.

"Raph."

And she finally did it.

She had finally called him by the name he preferred, the name that everyone called him by; the name he felt most comfortable using because it didn't sound like he was about to get a lecture or was in shit for something. 'Raph' was relaxed, informal and most importantly, all of his friends and family called him by that name.

But this small victory gave him no comfort because for some reason, at that very moment, his nickname grated at his ear drums, his frayed nerves, and his temper.

Coming from Catherine's mouth his nickname sounded, clipped, terse and much too short; as if her tongue didn't quite have enough time to take all of the care and attention it had previously taken to pronounce each and every single syllable of his name; making is sound like the sweetest word ever said.

And he capriciously found that he hated her calling him 'Raph'.

"There, I called you Raph. But I'm sorry, Raphael, I refuse to shorten your name or anglicize it any more than it already has been. Your name is beautiful and I refuse to brutalize it by calling you 'Raph'. So, get used to it."

Raphael ground his teeth together in fury. He was angry with her because he couldn't seem to control what he was feeling. He was both relieved and irate that she refused to call him 'Raph' and he couldn't handle it. He was furious with himself and with her and the only way he knew how to deal with too many conflicting emotions was to lash out, but right now he couldn't seem to unclench his jaw enough to actually talk.

His silence didn't seem to deter Catherine from continuing the conversation, as she filled the sudden quiet with her voice.

"I will admit that you do not live up to your angelic counterpart," Catherine mused. "He is a healer, and you, well...you cause people to _need_ to heal. " She paused in thought. "But I suppose since you and your brothers were named after renaissance artists I will concede that Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino was very fervent and ardent in regards to both his work and his..." She paused for a moment and Raphael could hear the smile in her voice, "personal life." She finished, fighting a laugh that caused her voice to quiver slightly. "You have a very temperamental, extreme and passionate personality, Raphael, and you share many other traits and qualities with your namesake. So I suppose if you look at it that way...you were very aptly named."

Raphael rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger in annoyance, distracted from his anger by her words because he was now confused. "And I suppose you were named Catherine because the name means 'smart-ass'," he bit out in irritation.

She laughed.

She actually _laughed_ at his insult and the sound -even over the phone- made his breath catch in his throat and his heart to soar with delight. The soft sound rode along his skin like smooth satin and made his flesh feel overly sensitive, almost electric with awareness.

"Catherine means 'pure', but that is a lot of pressure to live up to," she replied with a smile in her voice. "And there are many great Catherine's in history, but the Catherine I was named after, well-."

"What do you want?" he interrupted, wanting her to just stop talking and leave him the hell alone, but unable to just hang up on her.

"Well...I wanted to tell you that I think you are sweet for cooking Leonardo breakfast to make him feel better."

_Oh, God_ he thought to himself and grimaced as he was suddenly filled with pleased warmth.

To counteract this feeling he ground out through clenched teeth, "I wasn't bein' 'sweet'." He said the last word with disgust.

Catherine chuckled. "Nice, then. You were being nice," she conceded as if she had never know he possessed this ability.

He frowned. "I can be nice," he refuted.

She laughed again, his surly anger not bothering her one bit. "Apparently," she said with a smile in her voice. She didn't give him a chance to counter her observation and instead said, "And I called to see if you were okay since you stormed off last night, and to see if you would tell me what is wrong."

"I already told you," his voice low and deadly. "I AM FINE!" he shouted into the phone, angry again at her for not dropping the line of questioning that made him so angry and uncomfortable in the first place.

After all, it wasn't as if he could tell her that he was angry with her because he had kissed her and she made him feel..._something_; and he hated it and he wanted it to go away and leave him the hell alone.

"Alright, you don't have to yell," Catherine grumbled before he heard the smile in her voice reappear as she smoothly told him, "Then I shall take your word that everything is 'fine', and leave it at that. Have a good day, Raphael." And the line went dead before he was able to say anything more. Not that he would have said anything more but it pissed him off that she had managed to get the last word in.

He reviewed the conversation because he had a nagging feeling that he had not come out of that exchange either victorious or unscathed. In fact he was pretty sure he had been insulted and he was trying to figure out how.

Frowning he sat up and stared at the phone in his hand for a few moments understanding that she didn't believe that he was fine, but was letting it go anyway. He wondered if she had been implying that he was acting like a woman and dismissed it, because it wouldn't make any sense, as she would be insulting herself too. This line of circular thought made his brain hurt. He slid off his mattress and walked to his door, throwing it open and striding into the hall. His feet padded down the hallway and down the stairs. He slowly made his way to the lab and sat down in Donatello's computer chair right in front of the computer.

He managed to make his way onto the internet, bringing up the search bar of the search engine. He stared at it for a few moments as if unsure if he wanted to proceed. He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out if she had insulted him without him actually realizing it.

_'I actually believe that you are much smarter than you pretend to be...'_

He gritted his teeth at the remembrance of her words, which had been spoken with strong conviction; as if she truly believed them. Which meant that she probably hadn't insulted him in a way in which he wouldn't understand, because nothing is more frustrating than lobbing a well aimed insult and having it miss it's mark because the one being insulted didn't understand that they actually _had_ been insulted.

And yet he knew nothing of his name, except that he was named after an artist, just like his brothers. So it was possible she had insulted him, and he had been oblivious. And for some reason it irritated him that she knew more about his name than he did.

Talking with Catherine was like talking with-

"Raph, what are you doing?" Donatello asked and Raphael found himself nearly jumping out of his shell at his younger brother's sudden appearance; especially after he had been just about to call his genius brother to mind in regards to Catherine.

He looked over his shoulder at his purple masked brother, who was much like an encyclopedia; only a useful one. At least the Brainiac could figure out the complexities of a good engine and build practically anything from scratch. Hell, he bet that Donatello could build a time machine out of a toaster if he really tried. Catherine on the other hand was smart, but it wasn't useful smart. She knew stuff about art and history, but it was all useless.

"I'm looking up my name," he grumbled, answering his brother's question and turning back to the screen, typing his name into the search engine.

"Why?" his brother asked, completely mystified.

"Because. I need to know if I was being insulted," he stated as his eyes scanned the computer screen in front of him.

"Okaaaay..." his brother still sounded confused but Raphael wasn't paying any attention to his genius brother.

A list of results had come up but the top two were 'Raphael (Archangel)' and 'Raphael (Painter)'. He clicked upon the Archangel just to see if what she had said about the angel was even correct. Unfortunately it was and her observation about him inflicting more wounds than healing them was also correct.

Donatello must have realized that Raphael was not about to offer up any other words of explination and so pulled up a chair and asked, "What has your name got to do with being insulted?"

"Catherine said something about me being like the dude I was named after and I need to know if she was insulting me," he explained as he backed out of the Archangel webpage and went to the one focused on the painter.

"Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino," he read out loud. "So why the hell is he called Raphael if his name is Raffaello?" he wondered in confusion.

"Raphael is the anglicized version, like how Rome is called Roma in Italian and Florence is actually Firenze," Donatello answered easily. "And if it makes you feel better, mine name in Italian is Donato."

Raphael frowned, realizing that it still didn't make any sense to him, but remembered that Catherine had said the same thing as his brother.

His eyes scanned the screen in front of him and he suddenly let out a bark of laughter. "Says here that Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo were the trinity of great masters. Heh, looks like you got left out, Donny," he told his brother with sly mockery.

Donatello glared at him and Raphael grinned back before he turned his attention back to the computer screen. "Blah, blah, blah, don't care, don't care," he muttered out-loud as he scanned past the artist's early childhood, his influence, and his works. He laughed and smiled. "Raphael and Michelangelo were great rivals. If it said Leo that would make more sense."

"You and Mikey _are_ rivals," Donatello observed and Raphael's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Mikey just pisses me off and get's under my skin."

"And a rival does what exactly...?" Donatello asked innocently. "You just want to beat Leo in a physical fight. You and Mikey... I think half the time you two are competing over who's the loudest and who can get into the most trouble. You two always have to one-up each other at everything."

Raphael gave a humph of irritation and continued to read, not bothering to acknowledge his brother's astute observation.

"Blah, blah, highly admired, influential, brilliant, blah, blah, blah. Where's the good stuff?" he asked scrolling to the bottom of the page.

"Raph, that _was_ the good stuff," Donatello protested.

"I need the dirt, something good, something about his personal life," he shot back. "Here we go. Lived in a grand style... Yeah, not so much, I live in a sewer," he grumbled. "Never married... Yeah, I hear ya." He continued to read. "Dude was a player, blah, blah."

"I don't think Catherine was insulting you, Raph," Donatello observed.

"Pretty sure she was," he growled in irritation. "Probably had to do with how he died. I have no doubt that he kicked the bucket in a ridiculously stupid-" he stopped talking as his eyes finally found the cause of Raphael's early demise. He read the sentence over and over a few times in disbelief.

"Death by...too much sex with his mistress," Donatello read over his shoulder, his voice wry with a hint of sarcasm. "Yeah, Raph, real insulting."

Raphael felt his face flame as the sudden image of Catherine's naked body beneath his own flared to life within his mind making both his skin overly warm, and his pants overly tight.

"Shut up, Genius," Raphael managed to grind out. "There's gotta be something-"

"Raphael was a brilliant painter," Donatello began with a sigh in his voice. "He was dedicated to his craft, intelligent, and he had women but loved only one. So Catherine is basically saying that -believe it or not- you are smart, passionate, loyal, and skilled in your strengths," Donatello pointed out smoothly.

Raphael blinked in surprised incomprehension. "So she was...what?"

Donatello rolled his eyes and shook his head back and forth. "She was complimenting you." Donatello said as he stood.

"I call bullshit," he snarled. There was no way that she could be...

_'I think you are smart enough...'_

_'...I think you are good enough..."_

_**Bah-dump, bah-dump**_

His heart leapt and pounded painfully in his chest.

"She...complimented me?" he whispered in disbelief. "Why?"

She should hate him. She disliked him, he was sure of that. After all, he had never given her a reason to like him. He had insulted her time and time again and had tried to get under her skin and purposefully hurt her because he was hurting. She had every right to be furious with him, so she should be insulting him, but she wasn't. Instead she was...being nice?

_'...I think you are sweet...'_

_**Bah-dump, bah-dump**_

Donatello answered his question of why Catherine had complimented him. "Apparently she has suffered amnesia or illness of some sort," Donatello said teasingly. "But, she isn't wrong." Donatello acknowledged thoughtfully.

Raphael digested Donatello's words and had to regurgitate them a few times before he was actually able to accept them. Catherine had been laughing when she had compared him to the Renaissance artist, but he had assumed that it was because she was secretly laughing _at _him. He had never thought that she may have been laughing at her own wit and her own discovery of the apparent similarities between himself and his human namesake. Or she was laughing because the guy had died while having too much sex with his mistress, which... he had to admit to himself, if you had to go, that was a pretty damn good way to go out.

He dragged his hands down his face and tried to stomp down and ignore the bloom of pleased warmth that seemed to suffuse him at the thought of Catherine actually admitting that he had admirable qualities.

He pulled in a quick breath of air and swallowed roughly. His heart was still beating too quickly in his chest, hammering against his ribcage as the warm glow of Catherine's approval permeated every single cell in his body.

"Raph, about last night-" Donatello began and Raphael launched himself from the chair he had been sitting in.

"I ain't talkin' about it, and it NEVER happened," he snarled quickly striding from Donatello's lab and ignoring his younger brother's hastily shouted words of concern.

Running up the stairs into his bedroom he slammed the door behind him. Leaning against the door he tried to calm his traitorous heart.

Closing his eyes he leaned his head back against the door and hit his head against it a few times, trying to dislodge the feelings that were flowing through him. He HATED Catherine; he hated everything about her and he couldn't stand her. Sure, he could admit that she was hot, but so was Elizabeth.

He didn't need Catherine's approval and he didn't need her admiration. He enjoyed her indifference and her barely concealed tolerance.

Opening his eyes they desperately sought out anything that would derail his tumultuous thoughts. His eyes scanned his room until they fell upon the stack of comic books he had pilfered from Michelangelo's room.

Stomping over to his desk he pulled out the first one and threw his body upon his ruined mattress, determined to put every single conversation he had had for the last two days out of his head.

* * *

**Leonardo** woke up and stretched, feeling better than he had several hours ago. His eyes fell upon his nightstand.

Sitting up his hand reached over and plucked from the wooden surface, one of the flowers that had adorned his head. He twisted the silk bloom around in his fingers and he gave a slight smile.

With his other hand he reached out and picked up his phone. Hitting send he waited for a few moments until a feminine voice answered the phone. "Catherine, I was wondering...would you like to go out on a date with me tonight?"

* * *

**Dun, Dun, Duuuuuunnnn...LOL**

**awhhh poor Raph...**

**Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and enjoyed the twin's prank on Leo;)**


End file.
